


Malleus Malfoycarum

by sksdwrld



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Forbidden Game - L. J. Smith
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Dubious Consent, M/M, incubus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-03
Updated: 2013-02-09
Packaged: 2017-11-28 02:35:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 24,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/669258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sksdwrld/pseuds/sksdwrld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry and his friends decide to spend a quiet night in after a long week. Harry’s first mistake is picking up a game from a new shop in Diagon Alley, and his second is crossing Draco Malfoy, a beautiful Incubus who has his sights on making Harry Potter his, forever. Can Harry save his friends from their worst nightmares, or will they be trapped forever with their darkest fears in Malfoy Manor?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The plot is borrowed from LJ Smith's "The Forbidden Game" but the characters belong to JK Rowling. No harm is intended, no profit is made from this story. It's all in good fun...

It had been a very long week for Harry and his friends. Not only had there been a full moon, but a total lunar eclipse, resulting in innumerable problems, for both the wizarding and muggle communities respectively. 

A rash of werewolf-pups were born to several members of a group living as a pack, and the ministry had sent Harry and Ron to investigate. On the way there, they’d run into a group of wizards who were interested in documenting the scene, but who did not exactly have common sense when it came to approaching a group of blood-thirsty mothers with their newborns.

In Hermione’s front, it seemed that a new hex had popped up, currently un-named, but that had the terrible results of shrinking the affected person’s dominant hand and foot to one fifth of normal size. Several people had already been hexed, and she was charged with finding the counter-curse.

Luna’s confectionary shop had been broken into and vandalized-nothing a few quick waves of the wand couldn’t fix in all reality, but she’d been devastated about it- an odd reaction for Luna considering, but totally understandable.

Neville had been working on hybridizing plants for some time and thought he was on the cusp of a new breakthrough; he’d been combining the seedlings from Man-eating Madagascar (determined to be one of the most dangerous trees in Southern America, and responsible for keeping the wizarding population there abnormally low) with the much more docile and vegetarian-feeding plant, tumslewort. But as it turned out, the non-aggressive gene of the tumselwort was suppressed instead, and he managed to create a carnivorous variation instead. The entire experiment had to be scrapped and Neville’s lab torched because the weedy vines with hungry mouths had started snaking under doorways and attacking other members of the laboratory.

Lastly, Ginny had taken bludger to the shoulder in her last quidditch game of the season that not only broke her shoulder bone, but had knocked her off her broom. Luckily, one of her team-mates Alexander Macabre had broken her fall, but he didn’t see it that way. She’d cost him catching the snitch and he’d suffered a nasty concussion to boot. Needless to say, none of her teammates were very happy with her.

When Harry heard about their collective misfortunes, he decided that the best remedy for the weekend would be a quiet night in where the six of them could relax and reminisce about the good old days when they were all students together at Hogwarts.

He’d ducked out of work early and took a trip down to Diagon Alley to pick up a few things for his party. The first thing that caught his attention was a new shop on the corner of Diagon and Knockturn Alleys. The storefront was eccentrically eclectic, but as he neared and looked in one of the windows, he saw a brilliant display of wizard chess sets. He decided to duck inside before picking up the food and a few bottles of wine.

The door jangled as he entered, and reminded him of a muggle barbershop he’d been to once with the Dursleys to get Dudley’s hair cut. The inside of the store however, was nothing like that. There were artistically piled jumbles of games stacked here and there, along with more tidy shelves lining the perimeter of the room. Despite the newness of the store and the relative appeal Harry thought a gaming store like this might draw, especially with the younger crowd of wizards, the shop was empty. Empty, save him, and the clerk who was just emerging from what was most-likely a store-room in the back.

Long, slender fingers peeked first through the thick, blue velvet drape, pulling it aside. Then white-blond hair crowning a ducked head emerged. When the clerk lifted his head in greeting and smiled, Harry nearly gasped aloud. He had slate grey eyes that Harry could see from across the room, and a perfect pink mouth that he could imagine doing terrible things to him. The man’s body was long and lean, and bedecked with slim fitted trousers, shirt and vest, all in black. 

Harry’s stomach felt suddenly a bit queasy, and he thought it was likely because all the blood in his body was pooling in one of two areas- his face was quickly turning pink, and he moved behind a counter-top display to hide another area so clearly indicating his burgeoning interest.

“Hello, there,” The clerk smiled, leaning on the countertop that held the cash register. “Welcome to Malfoy’s Other-Worldly Games. Is there something I can help you find?”

Harry took off his glasses and began cleaning them on his shirt tail as he shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. I mean, well, I just came in to look.”

“Please, feel free. If there is anything I can help you with, however, anything at all, be sure to let me know,” Each time the man smiled, Harry felt his legs become a bit more gelatinous. “Draco Malfoy, at your service,”

“Oh, thanks, Draco…” Harry said, forcing himself to tear his eyes away from the gorgeous blond in front of him. He began to peruse the shelves, feigning interest at first, and then slowly gaining more appreciation for the wares. There were thousands of games there, ranging from the more traditional wizard, and even muggle games, to more exotic fare that Harry had never heard of. There were a number of board games and the like that seemed to be created by low budget, independent home-based companies, but some of the artwork on them was amazing.

After several minutes, Harry decided that maybe he would be interested in a new game that he could introduce to his friends tonight at his gathering. It had been a long time since any of them had done something fun like this, and sitting around swilling wine and griping about their week seemed less and less appealing.

“Actually,” Harry said, ruffling the hair on the back of his head, craning his neck to find the clerk. There he was, two shelves away, straightening boxes and apparently dusting, although the store was immaculately free of any dirt particles of any kind. Harry convinced himself that he had caught the man staring at him from underneath long, silvery lashes, and he began blush again. “Do you think you could recommend something for a group of people? Sex, er, I mean, six people, to be exact.” Merlin! That Freudian slip was going to haunt him for the rest of his days.

“Of course,” Draco smiled slyly as he approached, tucking the rag into the back pocket of his jeans. The way they were pasted on him, Harry wasn’t sure how he managed to fit anything in the pockets at all. “Are you looking for something quiet and amusing? Or perhaps something more adventurous, and exciting?”

“How adventurous and exciting do board games get, these days?” Harry questioned with a smile. His Gryffindor friends were definitely not the quietly amusing type-the more boisterous and rambunctious the game, the better. “I mean, we’re all adults now, and I just don’t think a round of Mousetrap is going to cut it…”

Draco tipped his head knowingly. “I think I might have just the thing. We’ve only got one left, and its in the back. Let me get it for you,” He crossed the room briskly and disappeared through the blue curtain again. When he emerged, he held a somewhat large, octagonal shaped box in his hand. The cardboard was black, with a slightly raised, swirled pattern that Harry couldn’t discern exactly what it was. He rubbed his hand over the surface, then tipped the box in all directions, but didn’t see instructions or any indication of what the game was, or how to play it.

“Well, what is it?” Harry finally asked.

“It’s a game of skill.” Draco started simply. “It’s a game of chance. This game,” he rested his palm flat on the surface, just beside Harry’s. “Is a game of adventure; of finding out who your friends really are.”

“Well,” Harry interrupted dubiously. “We’ve all been friends for years, I’m fairly sure I know who they really are,”

The clerk sighed, then began to recite what must have been the game’s manufacturing description. His eyes were focused on the ceiling, as if the words we there, but of course, when Harry looked up, there was only the pressed tin tiles. “Can you make it to the Mansion Turret before the time runs out? Can you save your friends from their worst nightmares come true? In this battle of wits, skill and luck, which one of you will emerge as a true leader, and which will fall to wayside, trapped in the snares along the way? This riveting game is sure to impress and challenge your friends in ways you’ve never imagined!” Draco’s eyes came back down to meet Harry’s and he shrugged. “Buuut, if that’s not your sort of thing, I might be able to find something a bit tamer,”

Harry’s heart had quickened during the description of the game play. He was sure it had something to do with the heart-breakingly beautiful man holding the ominous box in front of him. “Well, now that you put it that way,” he breathed.

The clerk smiled. “Great! Let me wrap it up for you.”

 

Harry had to hurry to finish the rest of his shopping and get back to the Grimmauld place in time to get everything together. Luckily for him, Hermione came by early, and helped him in the preparation of the snacks they would enjoy alongside the wine when they started the game.

Neville and Luna arrived together at the front door, and Ron and Ginny flooed in only minutes apart. Harry ushered them all in to the drawing room, and once everyone had a glass of wine in their hands, he presented the box with a flourish.

“I was down in Diagon Alley today, and I noticed there was a new shop, have any of you been inside?”

His friends looked between themselves and shrugged.

“I didn’t hear of any new shop, Harry. Usually Fred and George are all over news like that,” Ron said quirking a brow.

Ginny shrugged. “They’re busy Ron, maybe they just forgot to tell is. The Wizarding Wheezes shop has been growing lately,”

“Well, anyway,” Harry continued. “I popped in for just a minute and they had about a million games and such. And I,” He smoothed his hand over the lid of the game, because the way it caught the light just so, making the swirls stand out, was somewhat alluring. “Well, I thought it might be fun to do something different for once,”

His friends were all nodding in agreement. 

“Brilliant!” Harry said, flipping the box over several times. “Now I just have to figure out how to open it,” 

Hermione took the box from him and began to examine it. “What kind of game is this, anyway?” She asked, scratching her fingernail into one corner to see if she could find the lip.

“The salesman said it was skill and wits and chance, and rolled together….so, something for all of us!” Harry beamed, thinking he’d done a wonderful job in choosing something that each of his friends could enjoy.

“Well,” Hermione huffed. “We can’t very well play it if we can’t figure out how to open the bloody thing!”

“Did you ever think to just ask it?” Luna said, withdrawing her wand. She tapped the wide flat part of the box facing upward. “Open, please!”

Suddenly the box sprang open, revealing nearly invisible, interlocking seams. Inside, were a set of instructions, which Hermione set to reading while Neville took inventory of the remaining contents of the box. As soon as it was devoid of contents, the box reshaped itself into a tall, black, haunted looking mansion with cutouts in each of the windows, just large enough for a person to pass their hand through. Everyone looked impressed.

“Wow, Harry! I’ve never seen anything like this before!” Ron exclaimed. 

“Me neither!”

“Alright!” Hermione said in her best bossy tone after she’d finished reading. “Neville, you give everyone a scrap of paper there, and Harry, can you fetch some quills and ink? This says we’ve got to illustrate our worst nightmares, and keep them secret, you lot! The point of the game is to travel through Malfoy Manor and determine which nightmare belongs to whom, and then we’ve got to ‘defeat them,’ although,” Hermione quickly re-read through the instructions once more. “It doesn’t really say how we’re supposed to do that. Maybe there’s a page missing. There must be some interactive portion of the game, after all, it did assemble itself!”

“Did you say, ‘Malfoy Manor’?” Harry said, returning from the other room and handing out the quills. “That’s funny. I could swear the clerk said his name was Malfoy. Actually, that was the shop name too. I wonder he if was the inventor of the game?”

“That’ awfully pretentious, don’t you think?” Ginny quipped. “Naming your store and your game after yourself?”

Harry shrugged. “I guess maybe,”

“Maybe nothing,” She said with a smile. “It’s pretentious and you know it. Now give me one of those quills there, and no peeking!”

“Our w-worst nightmare you say?” Neville questioned, worrying his lip between his teeth.

“Yes, your worst nightmare,” Hermione asserted. “Come on now, we’re all friends. No one is going to judge anyone. And you have to draw it!”

“Whoops!” Harry said. “I need another paper then… thanks Neville.”

Everyone spread out and got to drawing their worst nightmares. Ron was so engrossed in his task that his tongue poked from his mouth. Luna was sketching in light, feathery strokes, and of course Hermione was putting in some serious effort. The only person taking it lightly was Ginny, who scribbled something down in a matter of minutes, then flipped her paper over and took a long swill of wine.

“Alright, what now, Queen of the instruction manual?” Ron said, returning to the group with both his scrap of paper and a plate full of food. He stuffed an entire deviled egg in his mouth at once as Hermione made a face.

“It says we shuffle the papers together and stick them face down, one in each room of the mansion, but not in the turret.” Hermione said, then collected everyone’s artwork, and did just that.

 

It was not one second after the last paper was placed face down in a room on the top floor that the room started spinning, slowly at first, then faster and faster. At first, Harry thought the wine was going to his head more quickly than he ever imagined, but then, no. He looked around and saw his friends had equal expressions of terror on their faces. Oh Merlin, what had he gotten them into this time?

Just as Harry stretched his hand out toward his friends, there was a loud explosion, and the room went black. It seemed he floated in this strange black abyss for sometime, a drowsy feeling over taking him and making it so he couldn’t open his eyes. When he finally managed to, he opened his eyes to a pressed-tin ceiling, just like the one in the game shop. The light was too bright, even though it carried the glow of a softly lit boudoir, and Harry closed his eyes again, groaning. Then he rolled over, and nearly fell off the surface he was laying on-must have been the couch, he figured. But then, hands grabbed at him, supported him, and pulled him back into place, before smoothing his hair down.

“Wake up, Harry Potter,” an amused voice crooned in his ear.

Harry sat up with a bolt, and ignoring the shooting pain in his head, looked in the direction of the voice.

There was the clerk from the game store, looking quite pleased with himself. He’d changed outfits, and though still cloaked entirely in black, this time looked more predatorial.

“You!” Harry said with surprise.

“Me?” Draco said with feigned innocence, batting his lashes.

“Where am I? Where are my friends?”

“Why,” Malfoy grinned brilliantly. “You’re all here, in Malfoy Manor. This is the sitting room of course, and as for the rest of them, they’re scattered throughout, waiting for you to find them and help them through their nightmares,”

“Their what?!” Harry exclaimed.

“Oh come now,” Malfoy tut-tutted. “You didn’t read the instruction manual?”

“You mean that was all real?”

The clerk quirked his brow. “Do you really need me to answer that for you?” He inched closer on the couch, reaching a hand out to flatten Harry’s hair. “Come now, for the Savior of the Wizarding World, you can’t really be that naïve, can you?”

“Why are we here? What do you want with us? Are you working with Voldemort?” Harry’s Auror nature was revealed as he began to interrogate his captor. He fumbled for his wand, but couldn’t find it.

“Looking for this?” Draco held up the slender stick and gave it a few practice swishes.

“Be careful with that!” Harry barked.

“Oh, please,” Draco smirked, and tossed the wand to Harry. “Like I need an instrument to channel my magic…” He waved his hand and the décor of the room changed in an instant, going from the Slytherin green and silver to a foreboding red and black. Then he snapped and Harry’s wand was back in his palm again.

“Are you a wizard?” Harry stammered.

“Hardly,” he scoffed, bowing the wand between until it seemed it would break, then righting it again.

Harry had a sick feeling in his stomach. “Who are you?” he demanded.

“Haven’t you ever studied demonology?” He questioned. When Harry shook his head, he continued. “Pity…your friend Hermione would know,” he drawled.

“Hermione!” Harry exclaimed. “What have you done with her?”

“Why, she’s waiting for you!” Draco explained patiently. “They’re all waiting for you to save them, one by one. Before the time runs out…”

“Time?”

Draco pointed with Harry’s wand, illuminating a mantle clock. “It’s just after nine now, and you’ve got ‘til sun-up,” He gave a wry smile.

“And then what?” Harry challenged.

“Well….well then you all stay here with me and keep me company forever!” Harry waited for a maniacal laugh to follow, the way villains do in muggle films, but nothing of the sort came.

“Why are you doing this? What do you want from us?”

“I want you, Harry Potter,”

Harry scoffed. “Me? Nothing special about me…”

“No, nothing special indeed,” Malfoy responded, but his eyes were lit with humor. “You can end this now…” He offered, tilting his head.

Harry mirrored him without noticing. “How?”

“You can agree to come with me, and I’ll let all of your friends go,”

“Go with you where?” Harry demanded.

“Back to the underworld, to stay with me….I can fulfill all of your deepest desires…” He leaned forward, dropping Harry’s wand in his lap, and brushed his finger tips across Harry’s cheek. 

Harry shuddered, and gooseflesh broke out on his arms and down his back. Then he felt that familiar stirring in his loins again. Part of him ached to throw himself into Draco’s arms, Man, Demon, whatever he was. But the other part of him was horrified.

“NO! I’m going to save my friends, all of them! And then we’ll all get out of here together,”

“Yes, and you’ll be the hero of the day! Well, we’ll just wait and see, Harry Potter. If you change your mind, just call…” And then Draco winked out of sight. There was no sound, the way there was when one disapparated, he was just…gone.

The clock chimed to remind Harry his mission was timed, and he got to his feet. He tried to apparate, with no luck, but then, he didn’t really expect that to work anyway. Then he swished his wand a few times, murmuring a few incantations. They seemed to work, although much more weakly than he would have liked. Still, it was better to have a semi-functioning wand than none at all…with a deep breath, he pushed open the sitting room door, and walked into the hallway.


	2. Chapter 2

The hallway was somehow less foreboding and yet more ominous than Harry had expected all at once. The floor was crooked and pitched in several areas. The walls, with their peeling ivory and green wallpaper, seemed narrow, and tilted inward. But there were no boogey-men, no flaming hoops to jump through. The portraits displayed people in various stages of decay, and only their eyes moved, watching him. It reminded him of a carnival fun house he’d been in once, in Hogsmeade, put on by a traveling band of gypsies. The place had creeped him out, even though he’d gone with friends, and they’d teased him all evening. There would be no teasing now, Harry would bet that each of his friends was just as spooked as he was.

The hallways stretched on forever, and at first, there were no doorways, only the corridor. He had been trailing his fingertips along the chair-rail, like a child, until he suddenly snagged, and felt a searing pain. When he jerked his hand away, he found a rather large and jagged splinter in the meat of his middle finger. It was embedded deeply, and when he pulled the wood free, the wound seeped thick blood. 

“Ouch!” Harry said aloud to himself, and pressed his finger to his mouth.

Harry walked for what must have been half an hour, and still, the corridor stretched on in either direction, and he saw no one. Finally his frustration got to him and he stopped, screaming up at the ceiling. “You bloody cheater! How am I supposed to save my friends if I can’t ruddy reach them? Give me a fighting chance! You owe me that much!”

There was a shuffling sound, and Harry whirled, preparing for a fight. But the only thing there was Hermione, who was getting to her feet from where she had previously been sitting on the floor. Could he have walked past her? He was sure he hadn’t.

“Harry?!”

“Hermione?!”

After a joyous hug, Hermione pulled back. “Who were you talking to?”

“Him,” Harry said, turning again and shaking his fist at nothingness.

“Him who?” Hermione frowned.

“Malfoy. The clerk from the store. He’s responsible for…for this, for all of this…”

“But why?”

“I…I don’t know,” Harry said in confusion. “He said…He said that the game we started was real, and we have to finish before sun rise if we wanted to leave. He said if we didn’t, he’d keep us here forever.”

“That’s absolutely ludicrous!” Hermione argued, crossing her arms. “I won’t play!”

“Then you’ll be stuck here with me. Not that I’m interested in you, of course. But I’m sure I could find something to amuse ourselves with.”

Harry and Hermione’s heads snapped in the direction of the voice. Malfoy was leaning against the wall a short ways away. Now he had on a bowler cap, and one of his eyes was heavily lined with kohl and mascara, giving him a slightly familiar yet eerie look that neither of them could put their fingers on. He stepped forward, jovially swinging an ornately carved walking stick.

“Our friend Harry here isn’t telling the truth,” Draco’s gloved hand came up to caress his face, but Harry knocked it away and scampered backward, pulling Hermione with him. 

“Don’t touch me, don’t touch any of us!” He said, pushing Hermione behind him.

Malfoy snorted. “The only one I’m aching to get my hands on, dear Harry, is you. As for the rest of them, live, die, here, not here…” He shrugged. “I could care less.”

“Die!?” Hermione squeaked.

“Oh yes,” Draco purred, his eyes glinting as he shifted to face her. “If you die in your nightmare…well, you simply won’t wake up. If you get hurt in your nightmare, you take home those scars with you. Fun, isn’t it?”

“Good Godric!” Hermione wailed. “That’s sick. What kind of twisted individual thinks up shit like that?”

A smile perked up the corners of Malfoy’s mouth and he bent slightly at the waist with his arms wide spread. “The one, the only, Draco Malfoy!” He straightened and gave them a bored look. “This is the part where you clap,” He waved his hand at them and immediately they began to pat their hands together. Hermione looked horrified. Harry fought the urge, tearing his hands apart, then reaching to pull Hermione’s to her side.

“You see, Harry?” Malfoy said, stepping forward again with a smile. “Your free will is strong. I like that about you. You’re a challenge, you’re an enigma. But I will have you, one way or another…so run along, play this silly game if you must, but say good bye to your friends while you still can…” He trailed off, canting his head. 

He put one finger to his ear, then pointed to the ceiling. “Do you hear that?” Somewhere, a clock was chiming. “Already ten o clock, and you haven’t even started your first nightmare…” He tsk-tsked and shook his head. “Better get a move on,” Malfoy whistled the first few bars of “Singing in the rain,” before slowly fading out of sight like the Cheshire cat. The last thing he did was tip his hat at them, and wink.

Hermione stomped her foot and growled in frustration. “That’s not fair! And why is he so interested in you?”

Harry opened his mouth to respond, but then he lost himself. His hand came snapping up and he pointed in the distance. “Is that a door? Have you seen any other doors?” When Hermione shook her head, he grabbed her by the wrist and they ran down the hallway. 

 

“Do you have your wand?” Harry asked, pulling his from his back pocket and pointing it toward the door.

Hermione checked her whole body, but no wand was to be found. She shook her head.

“This’ll have to do then, are you ready?”

She was gnawing her lip nervously, but nodded. Harry leaned forward, twisting the knob, then he kicked the door open. It banged loudly, then started swinging back toward them. They could only see blackness beyond the frame.

“Erm, ‘Mione?” Harry said, glancing at her. “What did you draw?”

She shook her head indignantly. “I drew myself having issues communicating. That’s all. I don’t like when I’m not heard.”

Harry quirked a brow. “That’s it? How in Merlin’s name did you draw that? How are we supposed to defeat your fear of miscommunication?”

“I don’t know!” She shrilled at him. “But we better get going so we can save the others!”

Harry took her hand and they stepped through the door together. As soon as they were through, the door slammed shut, then disappeared and the room brightened, revealing them to be in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom.

Harry started to laugh. “You’re afraid of Moaning Myrtle?”

“No, I’m not! I told you….”

Hermione trailed off, which was not like her to start a tirade and not finish. Harry looked at her then. Her mouth was moving, but no words were coming out. Hermione must have been aware that was what was happening, because she was feeling her throat and looking panicky. Then she grabbed his head, directing him to look at her lips while she spelled out, “Find an Exit,”

Harry dashed around the room while Hermione checked all the stalls. When he met back with her, she mouthed, “Nothing?” And he shook his head. They continued looking, then suddenly Hermione straightened, clutching at his arm, digging her fingernails in. 

“What is it?”

She turned to him in a panic, fingers fumbling over her eyes. When he pulled her hands down, they were glazed over with a white film. Harry was betting that she’d gone blind and couldn’t see.

“Hermione,” He said, grabbing her shoulders. Then he shook her. “Hermione!” When she stilled, he questioned, “Can you still hear me?”

She nodded.

“Alright, give me your hand then and come with me, everything will be alright. We just have to find the way out,” He started to tug her away, but she was rooted to the spot. When he looked again, he was horrified by what he saw.

The skin around Hermione’s mouth was knitting together over her lips, until finally there was nothing but a smooth, flat surface. Her breath was coming in quick gasping pants through her nose, and she had jerked her hand away from Harry’s, backing herself into the far side of the room, where she dropped to her knees, feeling her face over and over with her hands.

Just as Harry took a step toward her, there was a sudden rumble. He had to cling to one of the stalls to keep himself on his feet when everything started to shake. The room began to morph; it widened, lengthened, and the floor dropped out in wide patches. When everything was said and done, Hermione was half a quidditch pitch length away from him, and there was only a narrow path of stones raised on pillars that led, in a winding, maze-like fashion back to where Harry stood. He looked behind himself and saw a door. The exit. But he couldn’t go through without Hermione. He would cross the stones and carry her back.

As soon as he placed one foot on the stone path, it disintegrated and fell away. He wasn’t meant to save her this way.

“Hermione!” He called across to her, and her head came up finally. “Hermione, I don’t want to panic you more, but I have to tell you, the room has changed now…and, well, there’s only one way to reach me. I can’t come to you…the floor is…I’m being prevented from reaching you. The only way is for you to come to me! But you have to listen to me so I can navigate you, alright?”

She shook her head vehemently, and he knew she was scared.

“Hermione! You have to do this! How can I even hope to make it past the wits portion of this game without you? I need you, everyone needs you!”

Finally, feeling along the wall, she climbed to her feet on the square patch of stones she had been occupying.

“Alright, Good work,” Harry called. “Shift it a bit to the right, ok a little more. Stop! Okay. Put one foot out, yes, that’s good. Okay. Take two steps forward. It’s okay, Hermione! Stay balanced…okay, now, three paces to the left…”

Hermione’s whole body was quaking, but slowly she felt her way along the stones until she was halfway there. Then the path turned backward for a few paces, and she got disoriented and confused. She ended up dropping to her hands and knees, but had to stop again when her fingers wrapped around the undersides of the stones. Until now, she hadn’t realized how precariously balanced the whole path was. Hermione froze for several minutes until Harry was able to coax her forward again. 

“Hermione, You have to trust me, please!”

She finally reached the last step, but because Harry had disintegrated the final stone, there was now a gap between them.

“Hermione, you’re going to have to stand up. And then I’m going to give you my hands, and you have to jump toward me. I won’t let you fall, I’ll already have your hands, alright? It’s ok, you have to do this. It’s the last thing…”

As Hermione climbed to her feet, the floor gave another little rumble. Her arms came flailing upward, and Harry grabbed them just before she toppled over the side. He didn’t even wait for her to jump, and instead hauled her toward him, falling over with the effort. Then he scrambled to his feet, pulling her along with him and they raced to the door as the room began to shake and quake again.

Harry threw his shoulder against the door, and then they were on the mossy-green colored carpet in the hallway, the door slamming shut and once again disappearing behind them. A scrap of paper fluttered down from the ceiling and Harry picked it up. There was a stick person with an oblong face and curly hair. Her eyes and mouth were crossed out. There was another stick person on the opposite corner with a word bubble coming out of it’s mouth, saying, “You just have to trust me,”.

Harry could see why Hermione would be afraid to rely entirely on one person…it was her nature to be the leader, the go-to person with all the answers. He crumpled the paper and stuck it in his pocket, then rolled to his knees. “Hermione? ‘Mione, are you all right?”

She was sitting a few paces away from him, rubbing her eyes. “H-harry?” She finally rasped. Her mouth had returned to normal and her vision was restored. 

Harry crawled over to hug her, and then stopped short. “You’re bleeding,”

She rolled up the pant-leg where the stain was seeping through. “It’s only my knee from when I fell…” Then she smoothed the fabric back down and hugged Harry tightly. 

“Harry, you saved me!”

“Aw, you did all the hard work, ‘Mione,” he sighed, climbing to his feet then helping her up. "Come on, who do you think we’ll find next? Ron? Neville?” Harry dusted himself off and looked up and down the hallway. “Which way now?"  
A soft "plunk" was heard just then, and when they looked for the source of the sound, found Hermione's wand in the middle of the carpet, the tip pointing in one direction.  
"My wand!" Hermione scooped it up without a second thought.  
"Wait!" Harry grabbed her upper arm. "Was that a clue? Is he helping us, or trapping us?"  
Hermione looked uneasy. "Only one way to find out..."


	3. Chapter 3

Harry and Hermione didn’t make it much farther before another door appeared. They searched the area for any of the friends, and came up short-handed.

“Do you think whoever it is might already be trapped in their nightmare, alone?” Hermione asked gravely.

“I don’t know,” Harry said thoughtfully. “I didn’t come across any doors until I found you.

“Maybe the door appeared, and whoever was waiting for us went inside just before we got here,” Hermione argued.

“Yeah, but your door disappeared after we went inside…” Harry was quick to point out.

“Maybe everyone available has to be present before the nightmare starts…” Hermione said thoughtfully. “I think we should check, just incase…”

“What if it’s a trap?” Harry said.

“What if Neville is trapped in there?!” Hermione yelled, her hand on the doorknob.

“Alright!” Harry yelled back, pulling his wand out again. “Fine!”

“I’m sorry,” Hermione said more softly, extracting her wand. “They’re my friends too…”

Harry nodded, his jaw set. “Let’s do this.”

 

 

Harry was first through the door, and he didn’t notice that it slammed behind him before Hermione could even think about entering. He gestured for her to follow him, know realizing that she wasn’t there. The room was still pitch black, but there was an eerie sound that might have been water running, somewhere in the distance. 

“Lumos!” Harry said, pointing his wand high in the air. 

A small light shone from the tip of his wand, lighting the way just enough for him to see a foot or so in front of his feet.

“You’re awfully quiet,” He said, and garnered no response. “Hermione?” He whirled and back tracked several paces. “Hermione!”

“Who dares to wake me from my slumber?” Came a low, hissing sound. Harry immediately recognized what he previously thought was running water, was actually the sound of scales sliding against one another. 

Before he could look for the snake, he felt himself sucked up into one of it’s massive coils. As his wand fell from his hand, Harry saw the size of the snake was monstrous, as big as a house it seemed. He was quickly rendered immobile, wrapped tightly against luke-warm flesh.

Then there was a tickle against his face, as the snake tasted the air around him.

“No, please! I didn’t mean to,” Harry said. “I was only looking for my friends! I didn’t mean to disturb you, if you set me down, I’ll leave right away!”

The snake hissed laughter. “A Parselmouth, eh? Well, never the less, I’m afraid I can’t let you go….now that I’m awake, I’m ever so hungry,”

The snake tightened around Harry with another rumble. “Maybe you’ll find you friends after all…”

It was becoming more and more difficult for Harry to breathe. He managed to choke out, “Hermione, run!” just before his ribcage was painfully compressed, leaving him unable to draw another breath. His last hope was that he would lose consciousness before the snake swallowed him whole, because being digested alive really held no appeal for him. And then there was blackness.

 

Harry came to, for the second time that night. This time he was surprised to find himself choking and dragging in ragged breaths. His first thought was that he had regained consciousness somehow, in the belly of the snake. But then he realized he was in a den sorts, like a cave. There was a roaring fire, and the night air was crisp, cold. 

When he settled down, he watched his breath come out in puffs.

“Alright, Harry?” A voice said from beside him.

Harry nearly jumped out of his skin, and turned to see Malfoy beside him. He was wearing black leggings, made from some animal skin, and the top half of him was covered only by a short, furry black vest.

As Malfoy bent toward the fire, poking it, his vest opened, and Harry caught a glimpse of the toned, muscular body that lay beyond. He sucked in a breath of appreciation despite himself, and Malfoy grinned at him.

“Am I…dead?” Harry asked in confusion.

“No…” Draco said straightening. He reached behind the log he was sitting on, pulling up a silver filigree mug. He passed it to Harry, who warmed his hands on it before peering inside. He recently realized that he was very, very thirsty.

“What is it?” He asked with concern.

Malfoy seemed amused. “Taste it.”

Harry had his reservations.

“It’s not poison, you git. It’s not a trap. It will warm you up,”

Harry looked sideways at him, then lowered his head to smell it. “It’s….it’s… butterbeer?” His eyebrows knotted together.

Draco laughed at him. “Yes. Drink.”

Harry drained nearly half the mug at once, after taking a precautionary sip. “I’m supposed to be dead,” Harry said. “The snake…”

Draco waved his hand dismissively. “The snake is one of my minions. You shouldn’t have entered that room, Harry.” He got up, dragging another fur with him, then settled it around Harry’s shivering shoulders. “You have to know that you aren’t meant to die, Harry.”

“No?” Harry said futilely, pulling the fur around him more tightly.

“No.” Draco said simply, settling down beside him, then reaching a hand up to flatten his hair. “You’re meant to stay here with me,” He tipped his face closer, and for a minute, Harry was caught up in the reflection of the fire flickering in those steely-grey eyes. 

It was just the time Draco needed to close the distance between them and claim Harry’s lips with his own. Harry could have sworn that there was a spark that grew between them. He lost himself on the gentle plunge of Draco’s tongue and his swirling, caressing hands. He groaned into the blond-demon’s mouth, and clutched him tighter.

“It could always be like this,” Malfoy propositioned when he finally broke away. The two of them were laying beside the fire in a tangle of furs, and Draco idly caressed Harry’s arm, eyes searching his face for validation.

Harry was breathless from the snog. He was warmed thoroughly, and his body’s response betrayed him. But Malfoy made him feel so good. His skin tingled wherever he’d been touched, and his mouth was bruised and swollen from the kiss, which had grown more demanding.

“You could stay,” Malfoy whispered again. “And I can fulfill your every need, dream, desire…I can fill your days and nights with unimaginable passion…” His thumb was inching under Harry’s shirt, and he watched in a daze, on the verge of saying ‘Yes’, when Draco continued. “Say yes, and all your friends are free…”

Friends.

Harry suddenly jerked and shoved Malfoy’s hand away, then he scrambled out of the furs and to his feet. “No!”

Malfoy looked supremely disappointed, and he sighed heavily. “Very well then, be on your way,” He pointed toward the cave entrance, where a star-dotted sky loomed beyond. “And one more thing, Harry?” He said, just as the man reached the mouth of the cave. 

Harry turned on his heel abruptly, glaring at him. “What is it, Malfoy?”

“I wouldn’t go opening any more doors if you haven’t found your next friend on the list. You’re only subjecting yourself to extraneous fears that will slow you down…”

Harry blinked, then nodded once, and stepped out of the cave.

 

 

“Harry?!?!” Two sets of hands grasped him as he exited back into the hallway. He grabbed at them blindly.

“Hermione? Luna?”

“Oh, Merlin, Harry, where have you been? When you stepped through the door, it closed and wouldn’t let me in, and I thought for certain you were gone for good!”

Harry shook his head to clear it- the tendrils of warmth and the taste of Draco were still on his lips. “It was Him,” He said darkly. “Don’t go opening any more doors if we haven’t found the next person, that’s what He said,”

“Oh, Harry, I’m so sorry!” Hermione apologized, looking at him with consternation. 

He waved her away. “Lets get going, we’re wasting time.” As if to remind them, the clock chimed again. Eleven o’clock. 

“Luna,” Harry said by way of greeting.

“I ran into Hermione, and she caught me up,” She said gravely. 

“Harry, what kind of crazed demon are we dealing with, here?” Hermione asked as the three of them trudged along, looking for the next door to appear.

“I’m not sure, exactly,” he said, rubbing his lips thoughtfully, and slipping a hand inside his pockets, hoping that he was being discreet when he pushed down on his erection. It was the last thing he needed when they were going to come up against…whatever it was that Luna was most frightened of.

“Harry,” Luna said with a sideways glance.

He was certain that she’d seen him. He yanked his hand out of his pocket. “Sorry,”

“Harry, this demon…Hermione says he wants to take you with him…back to the underworld?”

Harry nodded.

“Does he…make you feel good when he touches you?”

“Oh Merlin! We are not having this conversation!” Harry huffed, storming ahead several paces.

“Harry!” Hermione called. “It’s only…it’s only if we know what type of demon he is, we might be able to fight him better.”

“If he appeals to your senses, Harry, “ Luna said wistfully, “It’s possible that he’s… well…an Incubus,”

“A What?!” Harry said incredulously, turning to face them.

“A demon of lust,” Hermione said matter of factly. “He influences your decisions using sexual persuasion. They make you feel good, make you forget yourself. Traditionally, they come to you in dreams, when your inhibitions are down, and coerce you into having sex with them. It strengthens their powers…”

Luna leaned across Hermione to add, “Some say that Merlin himself was the son of an Incubus, spawned with a nun, and that’s how wizards came into existence,”

“Oh, Tosh!” Harry said, crossing his arms. But silently, he wondered if it were true.

“You have to resist him, Harry!” Hermione egged him on. “It’s our only hope!”

“What do you bloody well think I’m doing?” He said with irritation.

Luna interrupted them both with a breathy sigh. “A door!”


	4. Chapter 4

“Luna?” Harry said, grabbing her arm before she could open the door. “I think it’s best if you told us what were going to be up against here.”

“Why, Nargles, of course,” She said with a smile that did not imply that she was suffering any anxiety at the thought of coming across her so-called “worst nightmare”.

Harry shot a side-long glance to Hermione, who only shrugged. “Prepare yourselves for ‘Battle Nargle’,” Harry said then with a nod, and shoved the door open.

“Oh!” Luna said with surprise, when the room revealed itself to be an exact replica of the cottage she’d grown up in. “It’s lovely to be home!” She flounced across the room that was both a kitchen and a dining area. The table was piled high with odds and ends, the surface not quite visible. “Would any one care for a cup of tea?”

“Luna…” Hermione said uneasily. “This isn’t meant to be a trip down memory lane.”

“And this isn’t your house,” Harry warned, standing with his wand ready.

“Nonsense,” She smiled. “I wonder if father is home?”

Harry and Hermione followed her from room to room, each more seemingly cluttered than the next.

“Well, he’s probably at the office,” Luna said with a sigh, then brightened. “Have you ever seen my room? I have the largest butter-beer cork collection on this side of London!”

Butter-beer corks? If Harry remembered correctly, Luna had told him once that they were known to repel Nargles. It was the first sensical thing she’d said all evening.

“Let’s see your collection,” Harry agreed, exchanging dirty looks with Hermione when Luna turned away.

“Hmmm…” Luna said with a frown as she opened her bedroom door. This room was the messiest of them all. “It looks like father has been going through a bit of a hoarding stage…I really should come home more often to help him out.” With one foot, she pushed a mound of trash aside, clearing a path to her dresser, then pulling open the top drawer. It was filled with rubbish. “Corks, corks, corks…” She muttered to herself, and began to look for them anxiously.

She was distracted when the first rustle came from across the room, but Harry and Hermione heard it. They looked at each other, then inched in the direction of the noise. The rustling became more insistent as they neared it, and suddenly, a small creature perhaps only a foot tall, reared up on it’s legs. It was spindly and thin, the color of dead leaves, and had large, wild black eyes. It’s hands…or maybe they were paws, had three long, sharp fingers and a thumb.

Hermione gasped, and Harry pointed his wand at it. 

“Ugly little thing, isn’t it?” Hermione breathed, forgetting about Luna for a moment.

On hearing the commentary, Luna spun toward them, then let out a god-awful shriek and fell backward onto her bed, also covered with piles of newspapers, pots and pans, and broken jewelry, among other items. Then she screamed again, and leapt forward. From the piles on her bed emerged a family of the ghastly beasts, hissing lowly and exposing razor-sharp fangs.

“Oh no!” Luna said. “The nargles are nesting in my house!”

Harry and Hermione had come to her side, and the three of them found themselves suddenly surrounded by a small army of growling, spitting creatures.

Luna was very quickly becoming unraveled.

“Expulso!” Harry yelled with a flick of his wand. The shock waves sent a group of nargles flying backward, and blew the mound of trash off the bed. This action exposed a rather large nargle, nearly a foot and a half tall. When it stood to shriek at them, it revealed a rather large and pretty broach, which it wore on a chain, wrapped several times around it’s waist. The broach dangled lewdly between it’s legs. Hermione wondered momentarily if this was the leader. She couldn’t tell if it was male or female.

“That is my mother’s necklace!” Luna shrilled, and lurched away from her friends, toward the angry beast. It leapt off the mattress, snarling, and dove into the mess on the floor, rooting toward the far corner of the room. “Help me!” She employed her friends, throwing items aside frantically.

The nargles had all disappeared after their leader, into the corner, and then there was no more rustling.

“Is that it then?” Hermione gasped.

“Luna, No!” Harry yelled suddenly.

She had exposed a hole in the corner of the wall, and she was halfway through already, twisting her body to force her hips through. “I have to, Harry!” She said through tears. “That is the only thing I have from my mum!” And then she was gone.

Harry groaned in frustration and dove after her. “We have to help her!”

Hermione was none-to-thrilled at having to cram herself through the tiny hole in the wall, and then, they were in a hollowed out tunnel that wound through the underlying foundation of the house. It was just large enough for Harry to scrape through, and his shoulders kept knocking down clods of dirt. “Luna!” He called, his voice dulled and muffled in the tight space. “Luna!”

Shortly, they were dumped into a larger cavern, but barely had a moment to assess their surroundings. Each of them were attacked in turn as they tumbled out, by a group of nargles who snatched their wands and speedily bound their arms and legs.

Luna was already tied and helpless, hyperventilating as she stared up at the ceiling with blank eyes. When they were all side by side, the largest nargle with the broach scrambled atop Luna and gave a taunting jangle of it’s hips, waving the broach in her face. Then it cackled, and chattered something that was understood only by it’s underlings. Finally, it leapt away, and the other nargles, waiting on the outskirts began to approach. 

The three of them were quickly examined, and first the thieving beasts began to root in their pockets, filching the contents. Hermione’s earrings were among the first things to be stolen, and she wracked her body side to side as much as she could to avoid them, but it was futile.

“Harry! What do we do now?” Hermione screeched.

He was scowling because two nargles had just made off with his spectacles, and his world washed away into blurs of color. “Ow!” he suddenly cried, without a chance to respond to her inquest. Two pointed claws had just pried one of his eyelids open, and the owner was examining his eyeball with interest, moving side to side vainly when it realized it could see it’s reflection in Harry’s pupil. Luna sobbed as the nasty things wrestled the buttons off of her shirt, one at a time, while another group worked on stealing her shoe-laces.

“Harry! Ha-” Hermione suddenly started to choke, as one of the nargles took the opportunity to pry her mouth open and partially climb in, looking for fillings presumably.

Harry could no longer see what was happening to his friends, but he knew it wasn’t good. His roar of frustration made all the nargles stop what they were doing momentarily, and some of them scattered away from the sound.

“Accio Wand!” He yelled. Though his arms were bound, it slithered into his grasp, and he began flicking it any-which way he could. “Impedimentia! Incarcerous! Incarcerous! Levicorpus! Impedimentia!” Soon, Hermione caught on, and between the two of them, they had the nargles running for cover. Hermione cast the spell to release her from her bonds, then helped the others.

Together, they helped a tear-stained Luna to her feet, and Hermione fixed all of their torn clothes. Harry was unable to effectively summon his glasses, thusly forcing Hermione to take charge.

“There’s…there’s a set of stairs, Harry, or we can try going back through the tunnel…” Hermione said softly.

“Stairs…” Luna said firmly, taking hold of Harry’s other elbow. She kept wiping at her eyes, and sniffled several times. At the bottom of the stairs was a solid door. They were part-way through when Luna grabbed Harry’s wand out of his hand and turned back in the direction they had come from.

“Luna!” Hermione screeched.

“Relashio necklace!” Luna commanded. In moments, the broach dangling from the head nargle that had snuck down to watch them leave tore itself free and whistled into her hands. She gave a triumphant smile, and shoved the others through the door in front of her.

The trio rested momentarily in the safety of the corridor, and then Luna noticed her wand, stabbed through a scrap of paper anchoring it to the wall. Hermione guided Harry’s hands to it, and he yanked with all his might just to free the wand, which was embedded deeply in the plaster. He handed it sideways to Luna, and Hermione lifted the paper, which had fallen to the floor.

“Nargles,” Luna said softly, taking her sketch back from Hermione with a firm nod.


	5. Chapter 5

The trio allowed themselves only a brief respite before continuing down the hallway, which was becoming more dilapidated and horrible with each step. Harry kept stumbling over the pitched floor boards, because his depth perception was skewed without his spectacles. Hermione and Luna began arguing the finer points of demonology again, and Harry wanted to press his hands over his ears to shut them out, only then he wouldn’t be able to feel his way along the wall.

“Argh! This is bollocks! Will the two of you shut it?!” he finally cried out.

Suddenly, there was silence. When he turned to face them, expecting dirty looks, he found them frozen in space and time, faces turned toward one another, mouths open, mid-argument. His fingers scrabbled over their shoulders. “Hermione? Luna?”

“Don’t worry…they won’t be harmed,” Draco’s voice a foot away made Harry jump again.

“Cut that out!” He said angrily. “Put them back to normal!”

“It’s what you wanted, isn’t it? Weren’t you just thinking to yourself, how much better things would be if you could have a moment of peace and quiet to figure things out?”

Harry opened his mouth, then shut it. It was what he’d been thinking, but he couldn’t admit it aloud. No matter, if the bastard could read his thoughts anyway.

“And…you wanted these back, yes?” Malfoy held out what Harry could only assume were his glasses. When Harry reached for them, Draco closed his hand and pulled them close to his body again. “Ah, ah…Everything has a price, Harry Potter.”

“Give them to me, Malfoy, they’re mine!” Harry growled.

“Perception is everything,” Draco argued. “One could argue that they are mine, since they are currently in my possession. Or, since I believe that you belong to me, these glasses also belong to me,” He smirked.

“You have no claim over me,” Harry said, crossing his arms.

“Not yet,” Draco replied, crossing his arms over his chest. He looked down, examining the glasses. “You need them, don’t you? To finish your mission? It’s going to be awfully hard for you to save your friends when you can’t see them…”

“Accio glasses!” Harry cried.

Nothing happened. 

“I am immune to your magic,” Draco laughed, stalking closer until he had Harry pinned against the wall.

Harry’s chest began to heave, and it wasn’t from any recent exertion on his part. Malfoy’s nearness to his body garnered a physical reaction that he seemed to have no control over. Even half-blind, he was still aware of the beauty that stood before him, only inches away; he couldn’t help himself.

“I know what you are,” Harry whispered.

“And what am I?”

Harry bit his lips to keep himself from pressing them against Draco’s.

“I’ll trade you…” Draco trailed in amusement. “Your spectacles, for a kiss…a single, willing kiss that I don’t have to steal away when you aren’t paying attention…” His words tickled across Harry’s mouth with each breath. 

Harry’s eyes slid sideways toward Hermione and Luna.

“They can’t see us,” Malfoy promised. He started to add something more, but was cut off by the sudden crush of Harry’s mouth against his. He wrapped his arms around Harry’s waist and leaned him back against the wall, reveling in the anger behind it all.

Harry had meant only to kiss him firmly on the lips and then demand his glasses back, but once their mouths met, he couldn’t tear himself away without just a taste of Malfoy’s spicy tongue. And then he needed more; he needed a handful of those silky blond locks, and he needed to feel Draco’s hot skin under his palms.

Malfoy wedged one knee between Harry’s legs, and pressed their bodies against one another. He rubbed the hard ridge of his attraction against Harry’s thigh, and lowered his mouth to the juncture of Harry’s throat and collarbone, sucking softly. When his actions met with a groan, he slid down the brown-haired man’s body to kneel in front of him.

“Oh…don’t….stop…” Harry sighed, balling his fists and pressing them against the wall, but not pushing the demon away.

“Hmmm ‘Don’t! Stop!’?” Draco questioned with amusement, drawing off Harry’s belt and rubbing his face against the soft flesh of Harry’s abdomen. Or, “Don’t stop! Don’t stop!”

Harry took a moment to consider this, even as he tangled his fingers in Draco’s hair again, arching his body against the warm mouth that covered him in kisses. “Stop it, damn you!” Harry finally hissed, shoving him away.   
Dramatically, the demon tumbled to the floor.  
“Yes, damn me.” he said with a smile, pushing up on his elbows, staring up at Harry lustily. “You can’t hide from me forever, Harry. I know what you want from me, and I’ll give it to you, just say the words…”

“Give me my glasses.” He demanded, redfaced.

Draco was on his feet in seconds, drawing close again and setting the frames gently on Harry’s face. Then he ducked forward, nipping his lips one last time. Harry cocked his arm back as far as he could and swung.

His fist only met air.

Just as quickly as the girl’s voices had stopped, they continued again, mid sentence.

Then, Hermione looked up, and took in Harry’s sudden state of dishevelment, his red cheeks, his glasses.

“Oh, Harry…” She said with disappointment.

“Can it!” Harry grunted, failing to meet either of their eyes as he re-buckled his belt. “I got my specs back, didn’t I?”

“But at what cost?” Luna wondered aloud.

“You’re only feeding his powers…” Hermione warned.

Harry scowled. “Nothing happened.”

“Something happened.” Hermione pressed.

He re-iterated. “Nothing happened.”

 

 

Ahead in the distance, there was a splash of red against the mottled beige of peeling wall paper and underlying plaster. The three of them surged toward it.

“Ron!”

“Bloody hell!” He said, climbing to his feet. “Where have you lot been? Where are we?”

In the distance, a clock chimed one. Luna’s nightmare had sucked away more time than they’d realized.

“And what the hell is that?” Ron stabbed his finger at the purple passion mark on Harry’s neck, just visible past the collar of his shirt.

“Never you mind about that, Ron.” Harry knocked his arm away. “You’re alright? No-one’s been harassing you?”

“Harassing me?” Ron said incredulously. “I’ve been stuck in this manky hallway for hours! I walk that way,” he pointed. “Nothing. I walk that way,” gesturing in the opposite direction. “Nothing. Nothing until you three, just now. Can someone please tell me what the bloody hell is going on? Where have you been? Where’s Ginny, and Neville?”

“We haven’t found them yet,” Luna said softly.

 

The three of them tried to catch Ron up as quickly as they could. 

“What do you mean, ‘face our nightmares’?” Ron’s voice ratcheted up in pitch.

“Each one of us drew a nightmare.” Hermione explained. “We can’t find the next person until we defeat yours.”

“So what is it?” Harry pressed.

Ron paled and shook his head, then slid down the wall. “Oh no, no, no, no, no, no. We are not doing this.”

“Ronald Weasley!” Hermione said in her best motherly tone. “Get on your feet this instant! Your selfishness is not going to cost all of us our lives, do you hear me! I want to go home!”

“Besides,” Harry added conspiratorially. “If we don’t finish yours, we’ll never find Ginny.”

“Ginny.” Ron said weakly. He took Harry’s offered hand and climbed to his feet. “If I tell you, you can’t laugh,” 

“No one’s going to laugh at you mate, we just need to be prepared, that’s all…”


	6. Chapter 6

“Bloody spiders!” Ron said, stomping maniacally on the stream of tiny arachnids that surged toward them from the forest floor. 

Harry, of all people, should have known what Ron’s greatest fear was. Unfortunately, it seemed that out of the four of them, he was the only one who didn’t prefer to run screaming from the eight-legged creatures. On entering the room, they’d found themselves deep within the forbidden forest. It was nearly pitch black, making it very difficult to navigate their course. For the last five minutes, they’d been standing in a small clearing while Ron wasted precious energy trying to kill the hoards of pin-head sized spiders that crawled toward them. He couldn’t be stopped or rationalized with.

Ron’s cheeks were red and his breath was puffing out in bursts. Then his eyes nearly bulged out of his head when Luna informed him that things were going to get worse. And she was right.

The spiders became larger and uglier in no time flat. They’d gone from minute house spiders to larger, uglier things. Some spotted, some with hair. And Poor Ron, wand-less, could only smash them with his sneakers in horror. Luna was busy maintaining the canopy of magic she’d settled over them, protecting them from over-head attack, and her concentration was no small feat. That left only Harry and Hermione to cast spells, and they too knew something far more frightening was in store for them- they were trying to conserve their energy as well.

When the spiders became too large to stomp, the corralled Ron into the center of a loose triangle the three of them formed with their bodies, wands at the ready. They tried not to eye the circle of spider carcasses that surrounded them.

“Ron, do NOT separate yourself from us, that’s when things get really bad!” Harry warned, looking over his shoulder briefly.

At the sight of a spider the size of a small dog, Ron whimpered and clung to Harry’s back. “I’m not going anywhere, mate!” 

“Geroff me!” Harry shrugged with a dirty look. He was already weary from the other nightmares, and his patience with Malfoy was worn thin, so he kept telling himself anyway. It was hard for him to maintain his easy-go-lucky-façade when he was in a mood like this.

The biggest spider they’d seen yet scrabbled up to them, gnashing its pincers, and Ron could see his reflection in eight of the beadiest eyes he’d ever seen. It made its way, unharmed to them, as the others were busy hurling spells left and right. The spider rapped one hairy leg against Ron’s shoe, and he looked down. He wavered dangerously, grabbing at Hermione for balance, then kicked at it with one foot.

“Get away, you!”

The spider widened it’s pincers, then made a grab for Ron’s airborne foot, catching it. With a quick tug, Ron was on his back, and then he was being dragged away over the stumps and brush.

“Ron!” Hermione grabbed at his hands, but was quickly yanked over on to her knees herself, and then she quickly lost grip of him altogether. He disappeared, screaming, into the blackness of the forest trees.

“Ron! Ron!” They all yelled, chasing after him. As the trio made their way more deeply into the woods, the scene became much more disturbing. Everything was covered with a film of sticky webbing, and shrouded figures swayed to and fro in the night breeze. In the distance, they could still head Ron’s wordless keen, and they pursued it until they were breathless, dodging wide webs that spanned between tree trunks.

By the time they caught up with him, they were in another clearing, deep, deep within. The spider that caught him had wrapped him tightly in a bundle of silk, from the tips of his toes to his shoulders, and was still busy winding his way upward.

“Help! Help me!” Ron gasped to his friends. His face was streaked with muddy tear-tracks. 

Each of Harry, Hermione, and Luna cast a spell, but it ricocheted off the thick, hairy spider hide, and did no damage. They tried again, to no avail. Only then did they realize that they too were quickly being surrounded by other, hungry wooly spiders.

“Air…Aragog! Aragog!” Harry spluttered. “We know Aragog!” The spiders slowed their progress, tipping their heads. 

With some effort, one of them managed…”Aragog…is…dead…as…will be…you…”

When Luna screamed next, Harry knew he had to do something, and magic wasn’t cutting it with these beasts. He leapt onto the spider nearest him, and wielding his wand like a dagger, began to thrust in wild, downward strokes. It screamed in pain as Harry managed to put out several of its eyes. They popped, and sucked at the wood on the upswing, leaving a viscid, gelatinous material clinging to the tip of Harry’s wand. Then, the spider staggered, and went down heavily.

Harry climbed off, his breath coming raggedly. “Alright you lot, who’s next?” He swung his wand in a wide arc, and several spiders scrabbled backward. Hermione had been set back on her feet, but Luna was high in the treetops, limbs tangled in the same sprawling web that Ron’s shrouded form was a prisoner of. 

He wiped his wand off on his pant leg, then stalked over to one of the trees. He swung his wand down purposefully and uttered the words that would spring him into the air, giving him a ten-foot boost. Harry reached for the tree trunk, and pulled himself against it, grunting with the effort. Then he put his wand between his teeth, grimacing at the taste, and began to haul himself upward.

“Harry! Ron!” Hermione gestured wildly. The first spider was hovering over him protectively, unsheathing it’s fangs and salivating all over the place. 

A poorly aimed spell blasted a hole in the web, forcing the spider to adjust it’s angle. But then it didn’t hesitate, and plunged it’s needle-sharp teeth into Ron’s body. Hermione and Luna both began to scream uncontrollably, and a muffled groan came from Ron. 

Suddenly, Harry had an idea. “Hermione! Catch them!” He yelled, even as he took more careful aim this time, and blasted away. He sent two rapid-fire spells at the web, and the silk finally tore under Ron’s weight. The spider scrambled backward, seeking better purchase, and Ron’s silk-swathed body dropped like a bullet, leaving wispy silk tendrils in it’s wake.

Hermione got herself together just in time, stopping Ron from hitting the ground at a high rate of speed. She slowed his descent, and he slipped to the ground softly. She barreled to his side, and began to tear at the sticky white thread coating him.

“Luna!” Harry screamed to Hermione in warning. 

Luna’s arms and legs were pin wheeling and her eyes were wide with fear as she sped toward the forest floor. 

“Leviocorpus!” Harry said, flicking his wand at her desperately.

Luna’s body suddenly flipped and hung upside down. She hovered only four feet from the pine-needle coated ground, and her hair floated serenely on the breeze. Harry did not have any more time to call to Hermione. Sixteen black eyes stared back at him, and four pincers gnashed angrily. Startled, Harry cried out, and loosened his grip on the tree trunk. He slid down rapidly, bark tearing at his flesh raggedly.

Ten feet from the ground, Harry let go, wincing as he landed, his ankles absorbing the shock, and forcing him to his knees. But he struggled to his feet, collecting Luna down from mid air. The three of them hefted Ron’s motionless body, still wrapped.

“Go, go, go!” Harry screamed at them. They ran as fast as they could, and found after some time, that they had not been followed.

“Harry!” Hermione panted. “We have to stop…Ron…”

He shook his head. “Find…the…door!”

“There it is!” Luna nodded emphatically in one direction. 

A door with peeling green paint and a rusty knob had never looked so appealing in any of their lives. They tumbled through, stuffing Ron along with them. Then, it slammed shut behind them ferociously, as if the forest were as happy to be rid of them as they were to be leaving it. 

Hermione and Luna used slashing spells to loosen the silk from Ron, and Harry tore it away with his hands. Ron’s shirt was soaked with blood, and he was pale as death, though breathing shallowly. Hermione struggled to pull his shirt up, and the three of them gasped at the seeping wounds on the left side of Ron’s torso, which was already swollen and distorted.

“Episky!” Luna said with a wave of her wand. The stab-marks shrunk, but didn’t close.

“Luna, no!” Hermione snatched her wand out of her hand before she could try again. “Those bites could be venomous! “ She let the wand fall with a clatter, and began to squeeze the sides of Ron’s wounds, forcing a clear fluid to bubble out. He groaned in pain, and only stirred slightly.

“Oh, Merlin!” Hermione moaned desperately. “What do we do? What do we do?” She felt Ron’s forehead, and let out another cry. “He’s got a fever. He’s been poisoned!” Her voice rose hysterically in pitch with each word. “We’ve got no potions, no salves! Oh, Ron, don’t die!”

Harry set his jaw. There was something he could do….

“Malfoy!” Harry roared. Luna and Hermione looked to him in horror.

“Harry, no!”


	7. Chapter 7

“You rang?” Draco appeared with a smirk, leaning comfortably against one of the walls not too far from where the four of them sat clustered on the floor. This time, he wore an ivory shirt with moderately puffed sleeves rolled to the forearms, and a black waistcoat. He carried a black leather doctor bag, and had an ancient looking stethoscope draped around his neck.

Harry gaped at him. “Well, don’t just stand there!”

Malfoy folded one arm across his stomach, still clutching the bag, and examined the fingernails of his remaining hand in boredom. “Something of this caliber is surely worth trading for,” He said with a sly smile.

Harry climbed to his feet, pursing his lips, and Draco grinned.

“Seems to me if you want me to save the life of your friend here, you’d be willing to give more than a kiss…”

Harry blushed, and Luna was on her feet, grabbing one of his arms in an attempt to hold him back. “Harry! Don’t do it!”

He shook her off with a dark look. “You want Ron to die then?”

In response, Ron groaned, and Hermione clutched him more tightly.

Harry bit his lip, eyes flitting between Ron and Malfoy, then finally he pushed his chin out and stepped forward. “Five minutes. Whatever you like with me. In exchange for whatever it is he needs to regain himself. I want him alive. And healthy enough to fight the next nightmare…”

Draco’s grey eyes twinkled, and he bartered. “Half an hour. Five minutes is hardly enough time to satisfy my needs…or yours, really,”

“Fifteen minutes,” Harry countered, his face turning purple. He refused to meet the eyes of his friends, who were staring at him as if he had eight eyes.

“Twenty,” Draco said simply, resuming his examination of well manicured fingers.

“Twenty minutes,” Harry said through gritted teeth, “And, you add the time to our clock,” he bargained for the extra time, knowing there were still two nightmares ahead of them, not including his own, and whatever time it took to find them. He’d be damned if he wasted their time fraternizing with the enemy, too.

“Done.” A wide smile spread over Draco’s face, and he tossed the medicine bag to Hermione, then seized Harry by his right wrist, drawing close to his side.

“What are you doing?” Harry said, as he watched Hermione pull a series of potions from the bag. “Aren’t you just going to wave your hand over him and make him better?”

“That isn’t what you bargained for, Harry,” Draco said with a shake of his head and a sad smile. “You asked for ‘whatever it is that he needs to regain himself’. And don’t worry, it’s all there in the bag… the venom antidote, a potion to recoup his blood loss, revitalizing and calming draughts…”

Harry tried to jerk away from him, but Malfoy’s grip on his arm was tight. 

“If I were you, I’d give that antidote first, and soon,” Draco’s eyes alit on Ron’s chest, which was starting to rise and fall in rapid, hyperventilating puffs. “And now, Mister Potter, I do believe, we have a date,”

The hallway and his friends faded from sight, and Harry found himself in a room that looked like it was straight out of a 19th century bordello. The wall was papered with large flowers, and the bed was a brass canopy with black satin sheets. The red glow of the room came from a side lamp, draped with a red-lace shawl. He couldn’t help but snort.

“Don’t you like it?” Draco said, unbuttoning his waistcoat and letting it slip to the floor. Long fingers shot to the buttons on his shirt and took them down rapidly.

“It’s all very…affected, don’t you think?” Harry said, his eyes glued to the stripe of Draco’s pale flesh that was revealed.

“Of course it is,” Malfoy said, exposing the entirety of his torso and leaving his shirt to pool atop the vest. “But when you’ve been seducing people for millennia, you learn to have a little fun with yourself.”

“Millennia?” Harry said in a daze. He was fighting the urge to fasten his mouth over one of those tiny pink nipples on Draco’s chest.

Draco smirked and perched on the edge of the bed, untying the period-appropriate shoes that completed his ensemble. “Take your clothes off, Harry.” He threw one shoe on the floor, then the other.

Harry found himself dragging his shirt over his head. The fabric caught and tugged at the ragged and abraded flesh left behind from his fireman slide down the tree; he winced in pain. Malfoy crossed to him, stripped him of his belt for the second time that evening, and then tugged down his jeans. Harry’s breath exploded from him. His fingers fumbled over Malfoy’s smooth flesh, and he clutched at him. 

“Don’t!” Harry breathed when Draco licked a long line down from his jaw to his belly button.

“You can say ‘No’ all you want, but for the next twenty minutes, you’re mine,” Draco purred with satisfaction, and tugged Harry’s boxers down around his ankles. Then he sucked the half-hard length in front of him into his mouth and worked it to full attention. Harry groaned, and his fingers tangled in Malfoy’s hair. “Oh, please!” He whispered, not knowing what he was asking for.

Draco pulled off him with a pop, and advanced toward Harry, corralling him toward the bed until it bumped the back of his legs. Then he pushed Harry backward onto the mattress, shoving his thighs wide so that he could settle his head between them once more.

“Oh, oh Merlin!” Harry hips moved of their own accord, thrusting upward, teaming with his cock, which clearly had a mind of its own and was straining to keep itself buried in the hot, swirling cavern of Draco’s mouth. He felt a questioning tongue tease the slit of his cock, drawing down another bead of pre-come. Harry had to bury his fists in the sheets, otherwise he was going to grab Malfoy’s ears and ride his mouth for all he was worth.

Under Draco’s skillful fingers, which pinched and tugged the flesh of his scrotum, then stroked the tender globes inside, Harry quickly peaked.

“Oh, oh, oh!” He cried, pumping his hips rapidly.

Then, all the warmth that surrounded him left suddenly, and Harry felt a cool breeze pass the rigid pole that was his prick. He forced his eyes open, and Draco was standing a foot away from him, looking amused.

“Why…why did you stop?” Harry said thickly, an effort to form whole words, sentences.

“Our time is up. Twenty minutes. I told you it wasn’t enough.” He folded his arms across his chest smugly. 

Harry’s head fell back against the sheets and he groaned with dissatisfaction.

Malfoy returned to his side, and began re-dressing him slowly, laid a line of kisses from his ankle to his hip, trailing undergarments in their wake. Harry’s cock worked it’s way through the opening in his boxer shorts, and when it did, Draco planted a slow, wet kiss on the pulsing head.

Harry groaned again, and this time took a firm hold of his ears.

“You want me to finish what I’ve started?” Malfoy’s voice was rife with amusement.

“Yes.” Harry whispered painfully. “No. I don’t know.”

“Well, which is it?” Draco’s lips moved, brushing the sensitive flesh of his prick once more, even as he tugged the jeans up around his thighs.

“Yes…” Harry’s rasp was shameful, but when he felt that hot mouth envelope him once more, he knew he’d made the right decision. “Oh, sweet mother of Merlin,” he sighed, bucking his hips faster, slapping himself in and out, ignorant of the scrape of teeth against the tender skin of his shaft. 

After he came, which really was only minutes later, he shoved Draco away from himself in disgust. He seemed content to sit on the floor and lick the remaining spunk from his lips while Harry searched the floor for his t-shirt.

“Your inner monologue is hysterical,” Draco advised, finally reaching under himself and handing over the shirt.

Harry snatched it with a scowl, and crammed it over his head. “Glad you find me so amusing,”

“Harry,” Draco said lowly. “I love every bit of you”

Harry did his best to ignore him. and tugged at the doorknob uselessly.

Malfoy continued. “Let your inner turmoil go. Stay here. Stop fighting. Let me love you the way I know best. I could spend the rest of my life listening to you groan and sigh beneath me…”

“Sod off, Malfoy, you cheating bastard. Let me go. Time’s up. You said it.” The door flew open unexpectedly, and Harry was thrown off balance. He nearly ended up on the floor beside Draco, who was glaring at him as if he’d been hurt.

“Go then, Harry Potter. And don’t ask me for any more favors. You’re the one who’s been cheating this game…you should have been dead twice over by now, and your friend, Ron, too. If I hadn’t helped you...you’d both be dead. And not even a ‘Thank you’, either,” Draco huffed.

Harry’s mouth worked wordlessly, and he looked away a moment. When he looked back, Malfoy was gone.

 

“Harry?” Hands suddenly pulled him into the hallway, and then Hermione and Luna were hugging him. Ron was sitting on the floor, looking dazed, but pink, and alive.

“Don’t!” Harry warned, his voice full of self-loathing. He jerked out of their grasp. “Don’t touch me.”


	8. Chapter 8

When the group finally found Neville, he was sitting on the moldy floor with his head propped against the wall. He had been stuck in an endless hallway for hours. The clock recently chimed four, letting each of them know how little precious time they had left.

“He’s the devil, you know,” Neville said as his friends approached, letting himself be hugged and jostled. But his piercing blue-eyed gaze was meant only for Harry, who blushed.

“What?”

“The name is a pun. Draco is Latin for dragon, but Greek for serpent…and Malfoy…well the direct translation in French is ‘bad faith’…in Christian literature, the devil is often represented in the Garden of Eden as a snake…and as far as I can tell, there has always been an association of dragons with wizards, which Christian faith also stereotypically interprets as ministers of the devil’s work…”

By now, everyone had shut up and was listening with rapt attention to Neville, who was rambling, but with intent.

“But anyway…” Neville continued with a weak smile. “He told me.”

“What do you mean, ‘He told you’?” Harry interrupted suddenly.

“Well…” Neville was finally starting to climb to his feet, and Harry took one arm to help pull him up. “I sat here forever, and I’d only just managed to work everything out myself when he showed up. Draco. Or whoever he really is. He said…” he huffed softly and shook his head. “Said he was the devil and wasn’t I afraid? Said that I ought to give up before I even start. Said he could read minds, tell the future. That I wasn’t going to make it out of my nightmare alive, that I didn’t have what it takes. Harry…he said…to tell you, that if you cared a whit for us, you’d put an end to this.”

“Did…did he visit any of you?” Harry whirled, appealing to the others. When the response was negative, he turned back to Neville. “How long has it been since he was here?”

“Minutes, really. I was alone for hours until he came, and now you.”

Harry growled loudly, and his friends shrank slightly away from him. “Can’t you see? He’s doing this to get back at me. Messing with you…I…I made him angry…Malfoy, God damn you! You stay away from my friends! This is between me and you! Coward!”

While Hermione and Luna tried to quiet him, the house gave a gentle rumble, and Harry was sure that Draco was laughing at him.

“He’s not the devil, anyway,” Luna said turning toward Neville with a smile. “He’s only an incubus, a lesser demon.”

“Well that makes it so much better for us, then!” This was one of those moments when it was difficult to tell if Neville was being facetious or sincere.

“How did you know all of that stuff, Nev?” Hermione asked him with interest.

He blushed before he responded. “Well, some of it was from muggle studies, and some of it from the extensive Latin I had to take for Herbology…and one of my Gran’s cousins was a muggle priest, so from everything…”

“Uh, Guys?” Ron said uncomfortably. “This whole reunion is bloody great and all, but doesn’t anyone think we ought to start the next nightmare so we can find Ginny?”

“He’s right,” Luna said stoically. 

Neville began to look green around the gills. “I don’t want to die, Harry…”

“No one’s going to die!” He bellowed, pushing past everyone to take the lead position in front of the door. “Wands at the ready!” He started to twist the knob.

“Wait!” Hermione said. “Aren’t you even going to ask Neville what his nightmare is?”

Harry shrugged. “Knowing in advance hasn’t done a fat lot of good so far, but why the hell not? Neville, what’s your sodding nightmare?”

His chin quivered a moment before he forced himself to lift his chin and respond. “Coming to terms with reality,”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ron gaped at him.

“Sod it,” Harry said, shoving the door open. “We don’t have time for this.”

 

 

“You’re late,” The freeze-dried voice that wafted toward them from one corner of the room made the entire party stop dead in their tracks before they could even begin to process their surroundings. Neville looked dangerously pale.

“Oh, sweet mother of Merlin,” Hermione groaned. “That’s not Snape, is it?”

“Professor Snape.” The dark-haired man in the corner articulated. “That’s 10 points off for Ravenclaw, and 10 points off each of the remainder of you from Gryffindor, for tardiness. And ten points for your insolence, Ms. Granger. Now, take your seats.”

“Bloody hell, Neville, you’re afraid of Snape? Still?” Ron hissed as they moved toward the front of the room.

“And you’re afraid of spiders, still!” Hermione snapped as she put a comforting arm around Neville’s shoulders and simultaneously gave Ron a dirty look.

When they reached the front of the classroom, Snape directed them into empty seats; none of them were to have partners. With a quick snap of his wand, a complicated potions recipe was revealed on the chalkboard. “I believe some of you have seen this potion on your N.E.W.T. examinations, therefore you are familiar with how incredibly dangerous it is. Finish it, and you’re free to go,”

Everyone looked at each other with confusion, then moved toward the supply closet to collect the ingredients. Only minutes into the lesson, Neville’s cauldron was already smoking, and Professor Snape was standing over him, sneering. “You are the most utterly useless blob of flesh that has ever crossed my threshold, Longbottom. Why, you’re hardly more than a squib! I ought to take you down to Filch’s office for proper training. You can take on his custodial duties when he retires- a job much more befitting of you than that joke you keep playing at in the wizards of science department!”

“Leave him alone!” Ron yelled, standing so swiftly that he knocked his chair over. 

Snape glanced over at Ron, and then his eyes flared black, then flickered downward at the seat he’d vacated. Ron felt his rump hit the worn wooden platform, and no matter how hard he tried, couldn’t rise off it again. 

Snape continued to berate Neville, who seemed to shrink in his chair. “Can’t even mix a simple potion, how can you expect to work anything else out? No wonder your little plant experiment blew up in your face…lucky for you someone had the sense to incinerate the whole lot, otherwise the world could bloody well be choked with cannibalistic vines by now…” Snape knocked the cauldron onto the floor with a sweep of his hand, spilling the sludgy purple mess all over the floor. It began to creep sideways toward Hermione, percolating in the cracks between the stones on the floor. Then he turned to set a new one on Neville’s desk, sneering, “Try again.”

Neville was red-faced and looked utterly dejected, and on the brink of tears.

It had been a long time since any of them had been in a classroom of any sort, let alone brewing potions while the distracting swish of Snape’s robes fluttered by. Harry and Ron were the next to screw things up, and listened to an endless tirade of how worthless they were, and how if Snape had been in charge, they never would have set foot inside the Auror Academy. Ron’s face was red with ire, and Hermione had to lean across the isle to remind him that none of this was real.

“Let it roll off your back, Ron,” She advised. “If we finish the potion, we can help Neville and move on,”

“And you!” Snape whirled on her then. “Little Miss Know-it-all…”

Hermione continued to work despite the angry banter, but it was when she added the last ingredient with a shaking hand that the entire cauldron belched, then oozed a sappy amber fluid over the lip.

“Congratulations Granger, you’ve managed to brew the industrial strength resin that binds furniture together.” Snape snorted. “Looks like you’ve gotten a bit on your knees; with any luck, it will give the wizarding world a reprieve from your frantic attempts to sleep your way up the company ladder.”

Hermione’s face darkened. It was no secret amongst friends that since graduation from Hogwarts, and things had ended with Ron, that she had taken on a more carefree approach to both her career and her love life. However, common knowledge didn’t do anything to lessen the sting of the snarky reproach. Hermione set to work again on a new batch, her movements jerky and restrained.

“He’s preying on your insecurities,” Luna advised from across the aisle. “You’ve got to ignore him the best you can!”

“Back to work, you brainless bit of fluff,” Snape instructed crassly.

Harry’s cauldron exploded a short time later, and coated them all with a tarry substance that made them itch furiously. Hermione waved her wand around, attempting to alleviate their distracting symptoms, and was rewarded for her efforts when Snape snatched it away and settled it on his desk. Everyone was forced to buckle down and suffer through the maddening itch as they tried to complete the potion as fast as they could.

Luna was the first to finish her brew correctly, and with no major mishaps. This surprised each of them, and Hermione most of all, who suffered through another sneering round of Snape’s verbal abuse, aimed this time at her incompetence and ego.

“Help Neville, then!” Harry commanded, as he and Ron dusted an ashy substance off their clothing. It was the product of Ron’s most recent attempt at the potion, that yet again resulted in disaster.

By the time everyone had finished, Neville’s cauldron had leached an acidic fluid that ate through his desk and left patchy burns on the flesh of his hands, forearms, and thighs, after eating through his clothing in areas. In spite of the pain, he managed to re-do the potion one last time. The final ingredient needed to be added smoothly, and the brew stirred counter-clockwise three times. His hand was shaking, and he couldn’t make himself add it, not with all of his friends crowded around him.

“Neville,” Luna said as she took him by the shoulder and pulled him to face her. “You can do this. You’re a scientist. You’re brilliant. And you’re better than this.” She gave him a quick kiss on the lips that left him blushing. Then she guided him by the hand to add the final tincture, and he swirled gently. When the potion turned green and let off a subtle steam, everyone cheered. 

Snape forced his way through the crowd and snatched the wrist of Neville’s stirring hand in an iron grip, giving one final dose of humility. “You are worthless without the aid of your friends, Longbottom. You couldn’t navigate a one-way street. You are a disgrace to all of wizard-kind. And this most recently study you’ve published?” He held it up for examination. “Total rubbish.” He released Neville’s arm to mark the paper in red ink with a furiously scribbled ‘0%’. “Get out of my classroom.”

“With pleasure!” Ron puffed his chest out as he pulled Neville to his feet.

Everyone was sure to pat him on the back, ruffle his hair, or give an affectionate squeeze to his upper arm in congratulations as they filed past. Luna gave him a lengthy hug, then took his hand and led him out.

“Now you can say you bested him, once and for all!”

 

The group piled back into the hallway, whooping with glee, and doing their best to boost each other’s self-esteems back to their rightful places. Neville’s wand was dangling from the ceiling on an invisible thread, and he jumped, trying to reach it. Ron scowled and snatched it down for him. His paper flitted down after it, revealing something of a self-portrait, though he was no artist for certain. 

“Your worst nightmare was…you?” Ron asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“No,” Neville replied as Luna took the paper from him. “I told you. It was facing reality.”

“Each of our perceptions of reality seem a little skewed,” Luna reminded them, folding the paper and handing it back to Neville. “I think we all proved that today.”


	9. Chapter 9

“Ginny!” Harry was the first to spot her sitting in the corner where the hallway dead-ended in peeling wallpaper, crumbling plaster, and bare boards. He took off at a dead sprint, and when he reached her, she stood and threw her arms around him.

The moment their lips met, Harry knew this wasn’t Ginny; from the spark that arose between them and shot directly to his groin, from the way that silk tongue stabbed for his tonsils, and from the way he groaned helplessly into the kiss, unable to break away. When Malfoy lifted his head, his face held a victorious grin. He had returned to his usual self, with the exception of the rust-red tips crowning his spiked blond locks. He watched Harry lick his lips over and over, then scrub his mouth with the back of his hand as if he hadn’t enjoyed every moment of the kiss. Harry’s pupils were so dilated that only a thin rim of green surrounded black, and Malfoy could see his reflection in them. He thumbed Harry’s cheek gently, forgetting that they weren’t alone, until an explosive voice accused him:

“Where’s my sister, you fucker?”

Draco disappeared, and the sudden loss of support caused Harry’s body to shift to the left a bit. He took the punch Ron was aiming for Malfoy squarely between his own shoulders and his body contorted around the blow as he grit his teeth. “Damn it, Ron!”

“I’ll kill the bloody coward, let go of me!” Ron struggled against Luna, Hermione, and Neville, who were now collectively holding him back.

“Sorry, Love.” Malfoy reappeared beside Harry, stroking long fingers down his back . “If he had struck me, I may have had to kill him.”

“Don’t touch me…” Harry tried to skirt the demon, but quickly found himself pulled tightly against him.

“Harry!” Hermione cried out, letting go of Ron to reach for him.

He put his hand up to her, shaking his head as he relaxed into the grip. “It’s ok, I’m ok. Just…don’t.”

“You know,” Draco drawled, looking pointedly over Harry’s shoulder at Ron. “Your sister is brilliant. Arrogant, but brilliant. She’s had this whole bit figured out from the start. I didn’t even have to tell her that she was going to have to face her nightmare for real.”

“Ginny!” Ron called out for her. 

“She’s also a bit of a slag. Offered herself to me if I’d let her go,” Malfoy curled his fingers in Harry’s hair and tugged his head back against him. “Of course, I’m not really interested in little red-headed bints, although I was quite flattered at the proposition…”

“Liar!” Ron struggled nearly free from Luna’s grasp.

“Damn it Ron!” Neville swore. “You’re going get Harry hurt if you keep this up.”

When it seemed that Ron had calmed himself sufficiently, the trio released him.

“Where’s Ginny?” Harry questioned while Draco continued to pet him affectionately.

“In her nightmare of course,” came the sly response.

“WHAT!” Five people chorused at once.

“I’m doing you a favor, naturally,” Draco smirked. “You were running out of time,” 

As if on cue, the clock chimed five.

“Sun-up is 6:23. Didn’t you say you wanted a sporting chance? I don’t get much more sporting than this…”

“You’re a monster!” Hermione cried. “None of us has had to face a nightmare alone!”

Ron began to pound the walls as if doing so would make a door appear. “Ginny! Ginny!”

Malfoy shrugged. “Didn’t I mention? Such was the nature of her nightmare.” He slipped one arm away from Harry to reach into the pocket of the same skin-tight jeans that he’d worn in the game shop. Harry took the opportunity to break away from him, and quickly pressed into his group of friends.

“How very disappointing, Harry,” Draco murmured as he unfolded the paper he’d removed and held it out to the lot of them. 

It was Luna who stepped forward and took it, then shared it with the rest of them. It was a drawing of a girl in the center of the paper. The ends of her hair were flipped up, and there was a sad tilt to the line that represented her mouth. The figure took up less than a quarter of the drawing space.

“You see?” Draco placated. “Alone.”

“That doesn’t mean anything!” Hermione shrilled. “I drew myself alone, and I had Harry to help me! Neville drew himself, and we were all there!”

“That hardly counts, you silly bint.” Draco smiled. “Your nightmare was being dependant on someone else to get you through a tough time. Hard to live that one without the dependant part…as for him,” Malfoy nodded in Neville’s direction. “Well, the goose is afraid that he really is a squib! What was the final verdict on that one, anyway? Inconclusive since you all helped him finish the potion, yes? Pity.”

“Merlin help me!” Ron threatened as he faced the demon again. “If something happens to my sister-”

“Yes, yes,” Malfoy waved his hand flippantly. “You’ll kill me. Let me know when you figure out how. We’ll chat,” Then he turned his attention to Harry. “As for you, well, you know how to end this…” he quirked a brow suggestively.

Harry bit back a retort, forcing himself to use a honeyed voice instead. “Draco?”

“Yes, Harry?” He smiled and unfolded his arms from across his chest.

“Let us help Ginny,”

Draco sighed audibly and his face fell. It was hard to believe he hadn’t anticipated that. “Is that what you really want?”

“Yes.” Harry’s voice was firm with resolve.

“Very well then. But I guarantee, when this is all said and done, you will be mine.” He flicked one hand toward the wall in irritation and a door appeared. “Happy hunting…”

Ron was the first to burst through the door, and the others followed quickly thereafter, leaving Harry to give a backward glance at Draco, who held court with a look of bored amusement. He waggled his fingers at Harry and nodded toward the door as if to say ‘Go on’.

“Harry.” Hermione implored, ducking back through the door to take his wrist. She tugged him along after her. “We’ve got to save Ginny.”

But who’s going to save Harry? He wondered silently to himself.


	10. Chapter 10

After Harry let Hermione drag him through the door and he began to examine his surroundings, he realized that for the first time, on entering someone's nightmare, he had no idea where he was. They were in a thicket of evergreen trees, and there was more than a dusting of snow on the ground. The wind was blowing bitterly cold, and he couldn't help but shiver. None of them were clothed for the weather, and Ginny, wandless, likely wouldn't have been able to cast so much as a warming charm for herself, as each of them were doing now. 

"Ginny!" Ron's insistent call was already getting on Harry's nerves.

"Shut up!" Harry bellowed. "Everyone stop moving!" 

They turned to look at him, eight eyes wide with confusion.

He blushed then and shook his head to clear it. "Sorry, sorry. I just needed a minute to think." After he'd taken the liberty, he gestured toward the snow-covered ground. "Anyone see footsteps? Something we can use to trail Ginny?" 

Everyone treaded carefully, and after several minutes, Neville called out from several yards away. "Here! I think. Must be!"

Ron was the first to come crashing over, followed by the others. There, sure enough, was a trail of sneaker prints. They seemed the trample one another in a circle, as if Ginny had turned around and around, gathering her surroundings. And then they took flight in one direction, wavering between the trees.

"Where in bloody hell are we, anyway?" Harry asked the question that seemed to be on everyone's mind as they trudged along after Ron, widening Ginny’s single-file tracks into a wide trail.

Ron pinked and slowed his hound-dog like trailing of the foot prints. "Nos Bogden Forrest." He puffed.

"Where?" Luna frowned. Like everyone else, it seemed she had no idea where that was either.

"A forrest in Scotland," Ron explained. "We went hiking there on holiday once, when we were kids. Fred and George and I spent the entire time scaring Ginny into thinking it was full of Trolls and what have you."

"Was it?" Hermione asked.

"No," Ron scowled. "Of course not. D'you think my mum and dad would have taken us on holiday with trolls?"

As if in defiance, a loud roar was heard in the distance that stopped the group in their tracks.

“Trolls!” Hermione exclaimed in a stage-whisper, her eyes wide.

“Of course there would be bloody trolls,” Harry huffed, pushing through the group of them to the front. “It’s her sodding nightmare,”

“Oh, it’s all my fault!” Ron groaned. “I’m such a bad brother! Ginny!”

Harry had to clap his hand over Ron’s mouth. “Are you bloody mad! You’ll attract them! If we’ve got any chance of finding Ginny, we’ve got to do it without being charged by a cluster-fuck of trolls!”

“Harry?’ Luna said, worrying her lip. She didn’t wait for him to address her. “It’s breeding season, for trolls, you know.”

“Well, that’s just bloody perfect, isn’t it!” Harry unhanded Ron that instant and tromped off ahead of them, only to flounder in an unseen snow drift that sucked him to his knees. When Ron and Neville rushed ahead to help him up, Harry waved them away crossly.

“Harry,” Neville said, grabbing Harry by the arm. “Going into this all hot-headed isn’t going to help any one. We all want to save Ginny. And though I can’t say that any of us would trade positions for what you’re in with that Malfoy-bloke, er, demon, incubus, whatever…but, well, we all wish we could share your burden…you’ve always taken it on yourself. You’ve got to let us help this time…”

Then everyone was circling around him, nodding. The attention made Harry flustered, and he blushed. “You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s getting late, and I’m tired, and things have been rough on all of us…” He clapped Neville on the back, squeezed Ron’s shoulder, and offered a shaky smile to the girls. “I’m lucky to have such good friends. Let’s find Ginny, and go home.”

 

 

Every so often, Ginny’s foot steps would sink in a little deeper, as if she had stood in that one spot for a bit longer than usual, and then they would meander in a wide circle as if she was contemplating changing direction. But then, they continued on, as if she had convinced herself it was a waste of time to back track.

“How long of a head-start do you think she had?” Neville puffed after half an hour of trudging through the snow.

“Beats me,” Ron said.

Harry sighed. “I’ll bet Draco went to her right after he left off tormenting you, Nev. She could have had more than an hour, and if she’s still going, we might never catch up…”

“Oh no!” Luna said, as if she had only just realized it herself.

“We’ll have to pick up the pace,” Hermione said with resolve.

“If only there was a way to go faster without killing ourselves…” Ron mused.

“I wish I had my broom!” Harry lamented.

“That’s it! Brooms!” Hermione got that look of excitement in her eye, and dashed away from them to collect a rather large tree branch that had fallen several yards away. “Brooms!” She said again, holding the stick up in triumph.

“Erm, Hermione?” Ron looked dubiously at her. “You do realize that tree branches don’t fly on their own, right?”

She shot him a look before assuming a mask of concentration. With a few waves and a flick of her wand, the branch was transfigured into a broom stick. Then, she laid it on the ground and held out her hand. “Up!” Her command was simple, but readily heeded. With a broad grin, Hermione jogged closer, and handed the broom to Harry. “You try it. I’m useless on a broom, but maybe I could double with someone if it works.”

Harry slung his leg over it casually, kicking off to hover a few feet above the ground. It was a bit wobbly, and took a little more finesse to get it to turn the way he wanted, but it didn’t seem to buck him off. He wasn’t planning on soaring the skies with the thing, and it would probably work for their needs. “Well, it’s no Nimbus 2000, but I think it’ll work. Hermione, you’re brilliant!”

She was already rooting about for more branches, and transfigured two more, which she passed to Luna and Ron. Neville had already climbed on behind Luna, leaving Hermione to share with Ron.

“Just like old times, eh?” Ron grinned at her. 

She smacked his shoulder playfully. “Shut it you. Let’s get going and find your sister before it gets dark,”

Ron kicked off swiftly, and Hermione lurched forward, clutching him around the waist. She turned her head to one side, and saw that Neville was gripping Luna similarly, only his eyes were tightly clenched shut. It was probably for the best. The way the snow sped past them made Hermione’s eyes want to cross. And if it weren’t for wanting to contribute her observation skills, she might have squeezed her own eyes shut as well.

 

 

The brooms allowed them to graze over the landscape much more quickly. Though, they couldn’t speed on as much as Ron would have liked, because they needed to stay low to the ground in order to track Ginny’s foot steps, and inevitably had to skirt the forest trees in between.

“Ho!” Ron cried, drawing up quickly to avoid smashing into Harry, who, flying on ahead, came to a sudden stop himself.

“Shhhh!” Harry hushed him viciously, and gestured toward the ground.

Ginny’s foot steps became scattered, and tracked back across themselves at this point. What was perhaps the scariest, was that in the midst of her delicate sneaker marks were wide troughs that emerged from the brush. Some of them trampled her shoe marks into oblivion, and in some of them, Ginny’s prints triumphed. But in the end, there were only ill-defined trough marks, and none of Ginnys.

“Trolls!” Harry hissed, as if none of them could put two and two together themselves.

“Oh, Merlin help us!” Ron whined. “My poor baby sister!”


	11. Chapter 11

“Hey there, Red.”

Ginny scowled at the way that silky voice lingered in her head, taunting her more and more, the longer she trudged along through the snow. That ruddy prat. She didn’t care if he was a demon or no- that Malfoy was a prat, and she hated him for it. In those minutes they’d shared together, he’d done nothing but taunt her. He teased her for her looks at first, but she’d spent years toughening up to Ginger-jokes, and when they didn’t phase her, he moved on to bigger insecurities.

Namely, that she couldn’t hold on to Harry…that he preferred the company of men over her own. She knew it wasn’t her fault, but it was always embarrassing to consider the times they’d been together, he’d likely been thinking of other blokes he fancied. Malfoy sneered at her and told her how they’d been together, the two of them, not to long ago. He was such a sporting fellow that he offered to let her kiss the lingering flavor of Harry from his lips.

Ginny had reeled from him with disgust.

 

“He let me suck him dry. He begged me not to stop, knowing the whole while that the clock was ticking down and his friends were waiting for him to save them… and you, for that matter.” 

 

Malfoy had a way of whispering into her ear that made shivers run down her spine to her toes, and the way his fingertips brushed her hair away from her neck made gooseflesh rise on her, all over.

 

“You couldn’t have him, but I did. You couldn’t keep him, but I will. Harry will be mine, forever.”

 

Ginny protested at first, then wizened to the game, and clamped her mouth shut.

 

“Why, he hasn’t even come for you, after all this time. No one has. I’ll wager you’re the throw-away friend. There’s one in every group…the one who’s there and no one else is really sure why…the one that tags along and no one has the heart to tell is dragging down all the fun…”

 

Funny, Ginny had always thought that friend would have been Neville, the scared-y cat, the reluctant wizard; or maybe even Luna. She wasn’t even a Gryffindor, and was more than a little odd…she didn’t fit in with anyone. But the more she let herself linger on the topic, the more she was sure it was true. After-all, she, Ginny, was just Ron’s little sister. They had let her tag along on more than a few adventures, but she didn’t have Hermione’s wit, or Harry’s bravery, or Ron’s foolhardiness...she was just the tag-along. The throw away. And she wasn’t going to get the rest of them killed just for her.

In the end, Malfoy had conjured a door, and told her it was the way into her nightmare.

 

“Helpless. I can’t believe that you think that you are…a strong girl like you…not even quivering in the presence of an all-powerful demon…but your friends think you are…wouldn’t you like to prove once and for all that you deserve to be a part of them? Go on, Ginevra. You don’t need them, and they don’t want you.” 

 

Now that Ginny was alone in the forest, she began to realize she’d let herself be played. She was wandless, freezing, and her sneakers were soaked through. Every snapping twig and distant sound made her jump. Wherever she was, the place reminded her of someplace she’d been when she was small. The image of Fred and George came to mind, and their teasing faces jeered at her.

 

The forest is full of trolls!

 

Ginny shuddered. She hadn’t been at Hogwarts when the troll came, but Ron’s recount of the tale had scared her to death and nearly made her not want to go herself; if it hadn’t been for Harry, she might have refused to go at all.

She stopped to get her bearings again, as she’d done a few times before. There were nothing but trees, and the horizon was a flat grey that didn’t help her with directionality at all. Ginny bent to retrieve a slim, forked stick from the ground, thinking that perhaps she could use it as a divining wand. She was just beginning to tune in to the subtle thrum of the stick, when a hideous bellow to her right caught her off guard. She stumbled backward a few paces, shrieking at the creature that lumbered out of the brush straight at her.

She managed to skirt the green-skinned troll a number of times before it’s giant fist closed around her midsection. It raised her to eye level, and let loose another angry howl that blew her hair back from her face. The stench of food particles and meat, rotting in the jagged crevices between it’s teeth was almost enough to make Ginny sick. The snap of her head, to and fro, accompanied by the tight grip at her waist, and the horrible smell were enough in combination to make her lose consciousness. Her head lolled about on her shoulders as she was carried off by the troll.

When Ginny came to, she was in a dark, crumpled in a heap of foul smelling items that she was unable to further discern the identity of. The air was thick with a sour, musky scent, and her headache throbbed in time to ragged grunts and gasps, accompanied by an oddly familiar slapping sound.

Funny. The sight of trolls fucking made her simultaneously want to giggle, and throw up; nothing like the time she’d walked in on Molly and Arthur, which had only made her want to vomit and run away screaming.

Further examination led her to conclude they were in a lean-to of sorts, which was surprising because she had never realized that trolls had the brain capacity for building even rudimentary structures. Of course she was in the far corner, and in order to escape, she would have to squeeze past the humping beasts. With any luck, they would be too preoccupied to notice her.

The last observation couldn’t have been more wrong. The second Ginny had moved her feet below her, the incessant grunting stopped, and was replaced by a howl of outrage. She was suddenly in the tight clutches of an angry troll fist, and was shaken about like a rag doll once more. She managed to maintain her grip on consciousness this time, but barely.

Ginny could only watch in horror as she was suddenly flipped upside down and dangled like a worm over a gaping troll-mouth full of jagged and uneven yellow teeth. This time, the rotten-meat smell wafting up did make her vomit, and she splashed the acidy bile from her empty stomach all over the troll’s face. It swung her in a wide arc, and she instinctively curled herself into a tiny ball, narrowly missing being thunked against on of the nearby supports of the lean-to.

Stop fighting. The thought came to her suddenly. You’re going to die anyway, why prolong the inevitable? Probably would have been better to be dashed into unconsciousness then chewed apart, screaming. Nevertheless, she continued to fight, although her twisting punches and kicks, when they made contact, didn’t seem to affect the troll much at all. It’s mate seemed content to watch the show and pick her nose, still laying on the moldy hay lining the bottom of the lean-to.

Well, that’s it then. She told herself. No-one is coming, just like you were afraid they wouldn’t all along. Why you thought you could handle being in your own is beyond me. Six brothers, two parents, and countless friends looking after your reckless arse all these years, and you’re going to be eaten alive by a troll with a raging erection. Way to go, Gin.

When Ginny had exhausted her final energy stores, she allowed herself to dangle limply from the troll’s grasp. She could only watch in sick fascination as she came nearer and nearer to those dull, pitched teeth. And then, she started to sob.

 

***************************************************************

The moment they came upon the trolls, the five of them drew up quickly and dismounted the make-shift brooms, crouching behind a row of sparse brush.

“Ginny!” Ron couldn’t help but exclaiming the moment he caught sight of his sister.

Hermione elbowed him in the chest and hissed at him to shut up.

“Reckon Wingardium Leviosa will work again this time?” Ron whispered across to Harry, rubbing his sternum briskly.

“No, I don’t ‘reckon’ it’ll work again!” Harry shot back. “You see anything we could levitate? We’ll have to try something else….Stupefy?”

Hermione rolled her eyes at him. “That’s your brilliant plan? Stupefy?”

Luna stepped up. “No, no. It could work.”

Neville nodded. “If we all cast together…”

“When was the last time any of you practiced group magic for the sake of increasing the power of a spell?” Hermione asked.

“You got any other brilliant plans?” Ron snarked.

When Hermione was quiet, Harry nodded. “Stupefy it is then. Wands ready? Alright. On three.”

On the count, there were five spells cast, and five wands flicked. Five individual spells went wavering toward the trolls and dissipated before it even reached them.

“We’ll have to get nearer!” Hermione lamented.

“We’ll have to cast on the move then,” Harry advised.

“And hope it works, since that last go-round was an epic failure.” Hermione sighed.

“We have to save Ginny!” Ron said, pushing himself to his feet.

“Alright, on three then.” Neville announced, pulling himself and Luna up as well.

 

The group rushed toward the trolls, shouting off-beat declarations of “Stupefy!” It wasn’t until they were six feet away and Ginny was precariously close to being eaten by the larger troll that their intentions came together. One solid, synchronized cry from the lot of them allowed the spell to hit the troll like a bag full of bricks. It stopped dead in it’s tracks, eyes crossing. Just before it staggered backward, its hold on Ginny’s ankle loosened, and she fell eight feet to the ground, landing in a crumpled heap. She didn’t move.

Luna grabbed Ron’s arm, stopping him from running to her side, and pointed to the now enraged she-troll. “AGAIN!” She screamed to all of them.

“Stupefy!” This time, it only took three tries before getting the timing right, and not a moment too soon. The female wavered on it’s feet, then fell forward, dividing the group of young wizards, and nearly crushing the still prone Ginny.

When all was clear, they rushed to her side, careful not to move her at first. Ginny was conscious, but barely, and had a gaping, bleeding head wound that was matting her hair down at the crown of her head. Luna helped to hold the two sides together while Hermione used “Episky” to knot the flesh back together. In the meanwhile, Neville had gone back for the brooms, and as soon as he returned, Harry collected Ginny up, ignoring Ron’s protests, and mounted one of them, holding Ginny bundled in his arms. 

“Come on you lot, we’ve got to get out of here before they-“

He was interrupted by a low growl from the first downed troll.

“start to come around,” Harry finished with a look of trepidation.

It didn’t take any more coercion before the six of them were off, as fast as the shoddy tree-limb brooms could carry them. All they needed now was a door to appear.


	12. Chapter 12

They almost never noticed the door, which was a rusty shade of red, and centered oddly in the middle of a tree-trunk. In fact, Harry flew straight past it, and had to make a wide U-turn when Luna and Neville began screaming for him. He handed Ginny, who was still out of sorts, through the door first, then climbed in after her. 

While Ron, Hermione, and Luna attended Ginny, Harry cast a Tempus, then scowled. It was 5:50. They had just over 30 minutes to find his door, face his nightmare, and give the bird to Draco Malfoy. A sideways glance told him that Ginny was in no condition for what would likely prove to be the most epic battle of the night. None of them were, really, and it wasn’t quite fair to any of them that they were in here in the first place. Everyone was safe by now, and what Harry needed to do was just face this alone, so they could all go home together.

He slunk off down the hallway while everyone was distracted, and had made it about 20 feet away unnoticed.

“Hey, mate!” Neville’s voice came after him. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Just, er, getting a head start on the door then,” Harry explained, making a concerted effort to find one.

“I don’t think so,” Nev said, jogging after him. “We’re in this together.”

“There’s no time!” Harry was quickly losing patience. “I’m sorry, I have to go. Go back, you and Ron, you have to keep the girls safe.”

Neville snorted. “More likely that the girls would need to keep the two of us safe, and you know it.”

A smile quirked the corners of Harry’s mouth, otherwise firmly set. “You all keep each other safe. There’s no knowing what he might do.” He gave Neville a gentle push backward. “Sorry mate, I’ve got to go.” At that, he turned abruptly and took off at a dead sprint down the hallway, leaving everyone calling ‘Harry!’ after him.

This time, the corridor veered sharply to the left, and as soon as he disappeared around the corner, everyone was on their feet, chasing after him. They came around just in time to see Harry, facing a patch of wall with a door that looked quite similar to that of a cabinet under the stairs. There was even a banister sloping above it, although no stairs to speak of. His hand was on the knob, and he took one final breath.

“Harry, no!” Hermione screeched at him.

He paused and leveled his wand at all of them, barking, “Get back! I don’t want any of you in harm’s way! I’m going to do this alone!” He sent sparks from the tip of his wand to show that he was serious, then turned back to the door, yanking it open. He ducked through, and the door slammed behind him noisily.

“HARRRYYYYYYYYYYYY!” The shout was collective, and the five of them raced to the door before it disappeared. Luna yanked the door open, and almost collided with Harry, who stood just beyond it, scratching his head. 

“See there!” Ron said with annoyance. “The nightmare wouldn’t let you start without all of us together. Like Nev said, we’re all in this together, mate.”

Then, they all piled through, but the door didn’t close on it it’s own. After a minute, they were all looking just as gobsmacked as Harry was. The hallway was a mirror image of the one they’d just come from, right down to the banister and peeling wallpaper.

Harry ducked back and forth through the doorway several times, then in frustration, began running back down the hallway, which seemed to stretch on forever. After a minute, he stopped and turned to access his progress, only to find himself ten feet away from the door.

“I don’t understand!” Luna piped up. “The nightmare, is it…stuck?”

Hermione looked horrified. “But that isn’t fair!”

“What’s your nightmare, mate?” Ron asked as a faceless clock chimed six times.

“Well, it’s definitely not being stuck in a never ending, fun house hallway, that’s for damned sure!” Harry yelled. He came and went through the door again a few times, before slamming the door behind him so hard, that it nearly came off the hinges.After throwing himself into the corner angrily, he slumped down the wall and buried his head in his hands. 

Everyone stood loosely grouped around him, wanting to offer their support, as well as give him the space he might need. Neville cast Tempus, then sighed lowly. “It’s 6:08. There’s not much time left.”

“You bloody cheater!” Ron screamed up at the ceiling. Hermione took his arm and pulled him aside, trying to calm him down.

Luna watched as Harry slammed his head backward against the wall several times in success. “Harry, that’s not going to help anything.”

By now, his eyes were bloodshot and watery, his face wan. He used the back of his hand to wipe at his eyes and nodded. “I know. I know what I have to do.”

“Brilliant!” Neville held out a hand and helped him to his feet.

Harry flustered them all away again and moved to stand in the center of the hallway, alone. He crossed his arms over his chest and took a deep breath. “Alright, Malfoy. You win.”

“Harry, no!”

“Oh, no, Harry!”

“Are you mad!”

“What are you bloody thinking?!?”

“Har-reee!”

“Harry Potter, don’t you dare!”

The protests came all at once, and they rushed him.

He had to push them all away again.

“Don’t you understand? This is my sodding nightmare! Not being able to save my friends! Not being able to do anything to help. If I don’t do this, you’re all trapped here, forever!”

“Oh, Harry, no!” Hermione protested again, leaving Ron’s side to attend his. “Not by selling your soul to the devil.”

“She’s right,” Luna agreed. “We’re in this together.”

“Yeah, together!” Ginny offered with a shaky smile. “None of us could have faced our nightmares alone. We need each other. We need you.”

“That’s awfully nice of you guys to say so. But it won’t work that way. That’s not how the game is played, don’t you see? The rules were, we had to defeat our nightmares before sunrise in order to go home. My nightmare is not being able to save you guys. If I don’t offer myself up, then we all stay here, in dream land, forever. But if I give myself up, then you can all go home.”

“I’m not going, mate!” Ron said with a vehement shake of his head.

Harry looked exasperated. “Oh really? All of you would rather stay here, with him, getting terrorized until the end of what could very well be, the rest of our short lives? Or would you rather go home, spend time with your mates, your partners, your parents. Get on with your bloody lives in some semblance of normalcy. Get married, have children, grandchildren.”

He looked at each one of them in turn. “You’ll never play quidditch again, you’ll never be able to go to the library again. You won’t be able to make any more fabulous chocolate, and you’ll never be able to eat any. And you, Neville, you won’t be able to do anything brilliant with plants, ever again. Is that what you want? ‘Mione? Luna? Ron? Gin?”

The stress of the day was too much for Ginny, who burst into tears. “Ronny, I want to go home to mum and dad!”

Harry nodded. “I expect you all want to go home. So just stand there, and shut it, while I do what I have to do.” He turned in a circle, looking down the hallway. “Sweet Merlin. Malfoy! Show yourself! I said, ‘You Win!’ Isn’t that enough for you?”

“Well, it’s close.” A disembodied voice wafted down, and they all looked up to see Draco, sitting on the banister to no-where, smirking. He let his feet kick back and forth a few times as they dangled, before pushing himself off he banister, jumping to the floor. Everyone shrank away from him, giving a wide berth, except Harry, who stood rooted firmly in place.

“That was quite some show you put on.” Draco circled Harry once, then stopped in front of him, clapping his fingers against one palm sarcastically. “Bravo. You managed to figure it out on your own, and all before the time ran out, too.” Malfoy cupped Harry’s face a moment, his eyes lit with pleasure. Then he planted a soft, brief kiss against his lips, whispering, “I told you I would have you by the end of the game. You put up a good fight, but you never really stood a chance. Try not to beat yourself up too much…”

Harry lifted his head up and away from Malfoy’s touch. “You win. Let my friends go, and I’ll stay with you, forever.” He tried not to let his voice shake. His young brain was already having a hard time wrapping itself around the concept of “forever”.

 

“I know you will,” Draco smirked at him, then shoveled his blonde hair back away from his face. “But first, we have a few things to attend to: a matter of a contract, I believe, and a simple ceremony. Then, they,” the last word was contemptuous, and he waved his hand behind himself, in their general direction, dismissively. “Can be on their merry way.”

He turned his attention back to Harry, and gave a predatory smile. “Kiss me first, on good faith.”

Harry gaped at him and didn’t move.

Draco made a show of turning his wrist up, checking a watch that didn’t exist. Then, he sighed. “Well, it’s nearly sun-up, and you haven’t signed the contract yet, which means, all your friends can stay here too. Not that I’m terribly happy about the idea, but you know, I think I can find a way to make them entertaining.” He began to angle his body toward the group standing behind him, his hand coming up.

Harry knew all it would take was a flick of Malfoy’s wrist, and then he’d be witness to something horrible. He grabbed Draco’s hand and pulled him back around, quickly darting forward. The second his lips touched the demon’s, they went warm and began to tingle. The feeling traveled down his torso and straight to his cock. A warm tongue parted his lips, and he groaned lowly.

“That’s enough.” Draco lifted his head, eyes glittering with delight. “For now,” he added as an after thought.

Harry’s friends gaped at him, utterly gobsmacked, and he blushed just looking at them. None of them knew what Draco’s touch was like, what one kiss could do. It was like instant passion. Liquid lust. It made his body feel on fire. It made his senses reel. There was something to be said about the prospect of the life he had ahead of him: one of sensual pleasure and no responsibility…on one hand, it seemed marvelous.

“Yes, marvelous.” Draco purred, parroting the voice inside Harry’s head,and taking his hand to lead him away. “Come along,” he instructed the remaining group of friends. “You’ll want to leave as soon as possible, unless you enjoy a good show too…”

On the other hand, he’d never see his friends again, and that thought was terribly depressing.


	13. Chapter 13

With a wave of his hand, Malfoy parted the wall on the left side of the hallway and drew Harry into an elegantly decorated, over-the-top sitting room, complete with a large hearth containing a blazing fire. He waved his hand dismissively again, indicating that everyone should sit. No one did.

“Right, then.” Draco arched his brow at them, then made a flamboyant hand gesture. A scroll of parchment appeared and a shake of his hand unrolled it in front of Harry’s face. It was as blank as the look on Harry’s face. Malfoy smiled and turned away, the parchment hanging there in mid air. He crossed to a cabinet and withdrew a shallow bowl and a frighteningly sharp looking dagger. 

“What are you going to do?” Hermione whispered.

Draco sent her a sidelong glance. “All contracts with devil-spawn must be signed in blood. I’m sure you knew that.”

Everyone looked horrified.

“B-b-blood?” Neville stammered, looking like he was going to pass out. Luna gave his hand an encouraging squeeze.

“Harry, you don’t have to do this,” Ron said one last time.

“Yes, I do.” Harry said, his eyes trained on Draco, who stabbed the tip of the knife into his own palm, then allowed a fair amount of syrupy black blood to drain into the bowl. Then he clenched his fist into a tight ball for a moment. Draco flexed his fingers several times, the turned his palm up, revealing a patch of white skin, only slightly paler than the rest. Harry reached for the knife then, but Malfoy pulled it back, cocking his head.

“Please, allow me.” He took Harry’s hand in his own, and stroked the pad of his thumb over the soft skin in the center. Harry’s palm thrummed under the gentle pressure. The knife moved swiftly, slicing open the meat of his palm, and Harry gritted his teeth together. He closed his eyes as his blood dripped into the bowl, splattering into Draco’s thicker blood.

Then, Draco licked Harry’s palm, sealing the wound closed. Harry gasped and yanked his hand back, examining it, though no trace of the wound remained. Malfoy swirled the contents of the bowl together, changing the color to a purple-y hue. Then he set it aside.

“Repeat after me,” he said to Harry, pausing to eye his friends warily. “And nothing else from the peanut gallery.” When everyone indicated that they were ready, he took Harry’s hand, and began to speak. 

“I, Harry James Potter, do fully and willfully give my mind, body, and soul to the demon known as Draco Malfoy. In doing so, I relinquish all ties to my former life and acknowledge Draco Malfoy as my sole keeper, protector, and lover. I entrust all my needs to him. In exchange, those accompanying me on this day, April Seventh, shall be free to return to their point of origin preceding the night of April Sixth.”

As Harry spoke the words he was given, they flowed in elegant script along the parchment, glinting silver in the light.

“Harry,” Draco cocked his head, making no effort to hide the smirk playing on his face. “Is your contract satisfactory?”

With not so much as a final glance toward his friends, Harry nodded, then managed to rasp, “Y-yes.”

“Very well.” With the usual flourish, a quill appeared and Harry plucked it from mid-air. He dipped the nib into the contents of the bowl-he couldn’t bring himself to think of it as blood-and then the quill hovered over the parchment, shaking lightly.

“Harry!” Ginny whimpered.

“Silence!” Draco roared, whirling on her.

Harry jerked at the noise, and a single drop of blood dripped from the tip of the quill, splashing on the parchment. It ran on it’s own accord, following the loops and dashes spelling out ‘Harry James Potter’, as if he had written the whole thing with his own hand. He looked horrified, and the quill clattered to the floor.

“I, Draco Malfoy, one demon, order of the incubi, hereby claim Harry James Potter, human, as my own. I shall accommodate his corporeal needs and desires forevermore.” The silvery letters continued on as Malfoy dictated, and when he was finished, pressed his thumb into the bowl. His purpled thumb print shown brightly a moment, then exploded into a frenzied signature that dominated the remaining parchment.

“I-I’m going to sick up…” Neville’s voice quavered.

“Harry…” Hermione whispered.

 

He shot them an apologetic look, his own hands shaking. “It’s done. You’re free.”

“Not quite yet.” Draco murmured. He took the scroll from the air and examined it momentarily, then smiled broadly. After a minute, he crumpled the parchment between his palms, startling everyone. It balled into a small sphere, and Malfoy continued to compress it between his two palms, his forearms shaking with the effort.

Finally, he grinned, and opened his hands to reveal a circlet, the color of obsidian. He held it up to Harry, who could see his own silvery signature on the inside of the band, and beside it, Draco’s. The two names touched at either end, flowing seamlessly into one another.

“Harry, do you pledge yourself to me, mind, body, and soul?”

“For Merlin’s sake, I already said I did, didn’t I? signed in bloody…well, blood. What more do you want?” Harry snapped at the demon, who was really pressing his luck.

“Indulge me.” Malfoy said coolly and lifted a slender brow in warning.

“Fine. Yes.”

“Mind, body, and soul?” Draco pressed.

“Mind, body, and soul.” 

Draco slipped the ring onto Harry’s left hand. “You’re mine!” He hissed.

“Oh!” The ring flashed blindingly, and Harry felt a searing pain travel up his arm and into his chest. It dropped him to his knees, and he sprawled on the floor, clutching his heart, gasping.

Everyone rushed to him then, ignoring the demon hovering over them all.

“What’s happening to him?” Luna cried.

“You bastard, you cheating bastard!” Ron snarled.

Draco rolled his eyes skyward. “The magical bond and spiritual contract are becoming one, binding him to his words. The pain will pass. For him. If the five of you don’t get out of my sight now, I can’t make any more promises that you won’t suffer.”

“The contract says we’re free to go, you can’t harm us any longer!” Hermione said loudly.

“The contract says,” Draco explained impatiently. “That you’re free to go. It doesn’t state any limitations on my behavior if you refuse to do so.”

“It doesn’t state any limitations on my behavior either,” Ron threatened. “I’ll Avada Kedavra your arse faster that you can blink!” He waved his wand menacingly.

Draco snorted. “Abracadabra would be as equally successful.”

“Oh yeah?” Ron flung his arm back to cast.

“Stop!” Harry gasped, rocking back on his heels and slinging his arm around Ron’s waist. “You’ll only make it worse.”

Draco stepped forward, his arms crossed, practically leering at the group. “Say your goodbyes,” he stepped past them and moved to the opposite side of the room, where he waved aside an elaborate silver and green tapestry to reveal a thick mahogany door with ornate, serpiginous carvings. He twisted the knob and set the door banging against the wall behind it. All that was visible through the doorway was amorphous black swirls. “And then, get out.” 

Everyone gaped at him.

“My patience is wearing thin. I will suggest that you don’t press your luck with me this time around.” Malfoy quipped before perching on the arm rest of an ebony-carved chair to study his fingernails.

It wasn’t easy, but Harry managed to wrangle each of his friends in for a tight squeeze. By the time he finished, the girls were sobbing and clutching at each other. Neville had stained tear-tracks down his cheeks, and Ron was red-faced and fighting to keep the flood back.

“If anyone can save me, you guys can.” Harry whispered into Ron’s ear as he crushed him against his body. Then Harry started to sniffle as his stoic façade crumbled. “You’ve all been the best mates a guy could…ev-ever have…”

They all piled back in for a group-hug.

“That’s enough!” Draco barked. “Stay or go, but get away from Harry. He’s mine now, and I believe we have a contract to consummate!” He peeled himself off the chair and stalked toward them, parting Luna and Neville with a glance. Then he reached between them and took firm hold of Harry’s upper arm, drawing him out of the circle.

“Draco, please!” Harry wiped at his eyes furiously. “They’re the only friends I ever had…”

“Shhh, now.” Malfoy crooned, using the pad of his thumb to caress away the tears. His hardened gaze softened as he looked over Harry. Then, he bent his head to administer a long, lazy kiss meant to distract Harry from the pain he was feeling.

It made him weak in the knees, and Harry clutched Draco’s upper arms for support as he moaned into the other man’s mouth, despite himself.

Malfoy walked Harry backward, settling him down on the settee. He had just started to settle his body down atop the other’s, when he lifted his head once last time, murmuring, “Get out.” His eyes, though heavy-lidded with passion, sparked dangerously.

Ginny was the first to run blindly through the doorway into the great abyss beyond, her face in her hands and red-tresses flying behind her. The others followed, until there was only Hermione and Ron left. Hermione touched Ron’s face gently, feeling his clenched jawline with her thumb. From their vantage point, they could only see a portion of Malfoy’s body just over the back of the settee, and one of Harry’s legs sticking off the end of the arm rest.

Harry let loose a throaty moan that made the two of them blush, and Hermione tugged on Ron’s arm, even as he started toward them.

“There’s nothing else we can do here, Ron. We’re of no use trapped here either. Let’s go, we’ve got plenty of research to do before we can think about saving Harry…”

Ron let himself be dragged through the door, feeling the blackness suck around him as soon as one foot crossed the thresh-hold. It was too late for second thoughts…the world swirled around him, bearing down, pulling him into something that felt like sleep.

 

 

Draco lifted his head from the crook of Harry’s neck, admiring the passion mark he’d left there. His mark, on his Harry. “They’ve gone.” He breathed, pausing to suck on an earlobe, drawing out another sigh of pleasure. “Shall we go somewhere more… conducive to lovemaking?”

Harry pushed his body upward against Draco’s, angling his head to one side, baring his neck, questing for more of those lips on his skin. When they were there, all his thoughts were scattered clear away like a flock of birds on an autumn day. He didn’t have a chance to consider what he’d given up. It was better this way.

Draco’s chuckle rumbled in his chest and reverberated into Harry’s. Even that felt pleasant. “Shall we away to the Victorian suite then?”

Harry started to nod, then jolted suddenly. The first place he’d willfully betrayed his friends? “No! Not there. Never there.” He rasped.

The corners of Draco’s eyes drew up when he smiled. “Very well. Some place new then. What do you fancy? Paris, Rome?”

Too much thinking involved, that. Harry grabbed hold of Draco’s lapel and jerked him down again, pressing their mouths together, letting himself be devoured until he was gasping for air. Malfoy sat back, letting his eyes flicker around the room for a moment. Then he smiled down at Harry, and shoved the back of the settee with one hand. As it flopped down, Harry jolted again, expecting the whole thing to go crashing to the floor. But Draco had only transfigured the sofa into a large four poster bed. Then he began to undress himself. There were a thousand buttons on his shirt, it seemed. Harry squirmed below him, impatiently. Not that he wanted this, he told himself. But oh, sweet Merlin. How his body betrayed him. Finally, Draco had drawn off his shirt. And Harry reached for his own, not wanting to take in that perfect lean body, not wanting to want to lick a long line from his jaw to the top of his pelvis, where leather pants clung like a second skin.

“Let me,” Draco practically purred, brushing Harry’s hands aside and drawing the fabric of Harry’s t-shirt up, pressing their bodies together. When the shirt was gone, he took the liberty of claiming another kiss.

“Oh, f-fuck.” Harry’s teeth chattered together when Malfoy released him this time.

“Not just yet, my love.” Malfoy smiled. “But soon, very soon.” Then he began a trail of nipping kisses down Harry’s torso. He reached the top of Harry’s jeans, and deftly pulled them down and off, his lips continuing to send little zings of pleasure along Harry’s flesh, wherever they landed. He paused to finish disrobing himself, and the fabric was discarded on the floor in a heap. Then he moved back up, giving his attentions to the inside of Harry’s ankles, calves, thighs. He gave a solitary lick to the shaft of Harry’s cock, offered to him when the brunette’s hips jerked suddenly upward. Then he moved down again, lapping the velveteen skin of Harry’s sac until it draw up, tightly cradling the tender globes within. He divided them with his thumb, massaging the seam of skin that traveled down the perineum behind them.

Harry’s hips came up again, accompanied by a wordless string of syllables. Malfoy smirked to himself and nuzzled Harry’s inner thigh, breathing deeply of his musk. His, all his, and he’d wanted this for years. He drew the man’s thighs over his shoulders and continued the path with his tongue, parting Harry’s buttocks as he shifted downward again.

Draco reveled in the taste of Harry. He needed no reminder that his kind thrived on body fluids and sounds of pleasure the way humans thrived on fine dining and wine. It seemed, Harry too, might thrive on sexual satiation…his body was veritably thrumming from Draco’s attentive tongue and lips, each touch from which sent a spark straight to his cock, no matter where they touched down. 

The moment Malfoy’s tongue touched the sensitive skin of Harry’s lower entrance, the man cried out, his whole body tensing. Draco could tell that he was close to orgasm already, and he couldn’t help but draw it out of him. He lapped at the clenched hole several more times, swirling his tongue before breaching the tight muscular ring. Harry made a choked noise and twisted his fingers in Draco’s hair just before he came.

Deft fingers massaged Harry’s thighs and Draco continued a round of gentle, teasing licks that carried Harry straight through his orgasm. When he finally moved to sit up, Harry’s grip in his hair tightened. 

“No, don’t!” He pleaded thickly. 

“But Harry, my love, I have something better for you,” Malfoy smirked and disentangled the fingers from his hair gently. As he rose up on his knees, he pushed Harry’s thighs wider apart and situated himself between them. He stroked his eager prick against the patch of dark brown curls that framed Harry’s softening organ.

Harry groaned and frotted against him, his penis slowly beginning to harden again.

Draco dipped his fingers into the pool of semen on Harry’s belly, pausing to taste the seed. He felt his own powers rippling, and had to hold himself back from licking the whole patch of skin clean. Instead, he greased his palm with the spunk, then smeared it over his own throbbing cock.

“More, Draco…please!” Harry was a writhing ball of lusty energy, and he was loathe to exercise any form of self-control. It made Draco smile. This was how he liked the subjects of his attention best. He positioned the head of his prick against Harry’s spit-slicked hole, and watched as the man below him shimmied his hips, trying to draw him in.

Harry whined softly, and Malfoy chuckled again, shifting his hips to acquiesce him.

“Oh, fuck!” Harry’s breath exploded from him as he was breached, and it was all he could do not to bounce under Draco’s body in a mad effort to pleasure himself.

Malfoy pushed in slowly, feeling Harry’s body stretch to accommodate his girth. Once he was deeply seated, he paused, fingers dropping to tease pink nipples into hard buds. 

Harry writhed below him. “Oh, please, please.” He panted, eyes screwed shut tightly.

“This?” Malfoy asked, leaned forward on his forearms and rocking his hips slowly, knowing very well that was exactly what his lover was begging for.

“Mmm, ahh…” Harry locked his arms around Draco’s back and buried his face against his chest.

Draco felt a jolt of pleasure in his groin when Harry began to suck a patch of skin near his shoulder. He couldn’t help that his hips snapped forward, driving his cock into Harry’s hot channel with force. Harry only groaned and lifted his hips higher in accommodation.

“Oh, we are perfect together, you and I…” Draco hummed as he busied himself into a rhythm that suited the two of them perfectly.

Malfoy could sense his own impending release as Harry was rolling his hips, another string of unintelligible sounds coming from his lips. He reached between them, taking firm hold of Harry’s cock, that until then, had only been stimulated by the motion of their abdomens as they came together.

He rolled his thumb over the slit, drawing out a bead of moisture, then pumped his fist several times. Harry convulsed below him, and with a cry, bucked shamelessly. The first droplet of come that hit Draco’s chest propelled his own orgasm. He pistoned his hips several times, then buried himself deep, emptying himself into the clenching warmth that milked him.

“Harry. My Harry.” He breathed in satisfaction before lavishing the man’s face with hurried kisses. Even holding him in the after-glow brought Draco more pleasure than he could have ever hoped for. He had won his prize after all. Maybe not fair and square, but Harry was his. He didn’t care what those Witches and Wizards thought they could do…they weren’t going to take this away from him, ever.

 

The End.


End file.
